


Impossible

by shayminion



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, Children, Drinking, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, M/M, Marriage, Mild Gore, Multi, Politics, Retelling, Secret Crush, Swordfighting, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-05-01 13:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shayminion/pseuds/shayminion
Summary: Is it possible for the impossible to happen? Tactician Robin can envision a plan, but not for these feelings he has for a certain prince.





	1. Chapter 1

Robin remembers this well. He remembers the chants from the enemy army surrounding them, the scent of blood. A tall, dark haired man stands before them. His eyes are full of evil, malice, and Robin feels them piercing into his own. He feels trapped. Alone. He feels the darkness swirling around them, and through it he sees the Validar ready a magical attack.

Strategy! Quick, think of a strategy! Robin holds his breath as he watches his attackers hand surround with purple energy. The tall man unleashes it, hurling it towards Robin.

_“Die!”_

Falchion glints as it's brought up to block the blast of magical energy from hitting its target. It's blue-haired wielder steps forward, a triumphant smile on his face, and he looks back at his tactician. Robin’s eyes are drawn to his, and he feels his heart skip a beat at sight of those warm blue orbs. Chrom.

_“This is it! Our final battle!”_

Robin turns to face the tall man again, pushing strands of his white hair out of his eyes. He watches Chrom deflect another attack out of the corner of his dark eyes. It ricochets and ignites a wall banner with purple flames.

_“You're one of us, Robin, and no 'destiny’ can change that. Now let's kill this dastard and be done with it!”_

Chrom’s words ring through the tactician, filling him with pride. His palm warms as he opens his tome, readying a spell knitted with flames. Robin unleashes it, hurling it at the tall dark mage, and suddenly everything goes black.

_“This isn't over… Damn you BOTH!”_

Robin wakes in a cold sweat, jolting up from his bed roll. His hair is tousled and tangled as he runs both hands through it, breathing hard, his heart racing.

Breathe, breathe… the same dream had been haunting him ever since he has joined the Shepherds, a band of friends lead by Ylisstol’s own prince Chrom. Before that fateful day where the white-haired man had met him, Robin couldn't remember anything except for fleeting memories appearing in his dreams. A hard lump forms in his throat, the memory crashing over him: he knew how the dream would end. It always ended the exact same, in a way that scared Robin. Shaking it off, he rolls out of his bedroll and peeks out the window from his small shared room.

It's still dark outside. Judging from the position of the crescent moon above, it was around 3am. Robin sighs. He feels restless. Dressed in his sleeping clothes, he pulls his well-worn cloak over his shoulders to seek some fresh air.

He tiptoes past Stahl, his roommate, who is snoring with his mouth open. Getting back to sleep later would prove troublesome. Walking quietly through the Shepherds barracks, he heads to the gardens surrounding Castle Ylisstol. The grass is covered in a light coating of dew, and the cool night air is refreshing against his warm cheeks. Robin’s heart slowly settles as he walks, each beat relaxing for each step he takes. Walks like this often helped after his dreams.

He's so engrossed in his thoughts, he hardly notices Chrom until he's almost tripped over the blue-haired man.

“Chrom? What are you doing out so late?” Robin quizzes, stopping short near the prince. His cheeks warm further, and he feels his heart beat a little faster at the sight of him sleep deprived and hair ruffled. Chrom looks up from his spot on the lawn, mildly surprised to see Robin there.

“Oh, hi, Robin,” he rumbles, as if it was the most normal thing to be found laying outside on a patch of grass this early in the morning. “Just… Dueling with some unpleasant thoughts…”

Chrom trails off, his eyes returning to the stars above. They reflect them, shining bright, sending a shiver up Robin’s spine. He didn't know how to describe these feelings. He had felt them since he first saw the prince, on that fateful day all those weeks ago.

“There are better place to take a nap then on the ground, you know.”

Robin sits next to him, a good amount of space between them, and tucks his arms around his knees. Chrom closes his eyes.

“Tomorrow we march to Regna Ferox to request additional soldiers.” Robin nods, remembering speaking with Chrom a few days ago about this mission. “But there's something you should know first. Not everything Gangrel said was a lie.”

Robin patiently waits for Chrom to continue, plucking a piece of grass from the ground and twirling it. “The last exalt, my father, waged war on Plegia for many years. The violence... It was a brutal campaign, ending only with his death 15 years ago. Plegia rightfully remembers their suffering, but his war was no kinder to his own people.”

Chrom swallows hard. “As the fighting dragged on, our army became more and more diminished. Farmers who could barely wield a pitchfork were conscripted and sent to their deaths. Soon there was no food at all, and the kingdom began to collapse. I was young, but I remember those dark times… I know how they affected Emmeryn…”

Robin looks away from Chrom as he opens his eyes, sitting up. His blue hair has a few leaves in it from laying on the dew-covered lawn. So cute.

Gods, why must he think such impolite thoughts at such a time? This was the prince Robin was thinking about. Show some respect.

“Such an experience would change anyone,” Robin says, fiddling with his blade of grass.

“Indeed,” Chrom says, running a hand through his hair, sighing slightly. “When our father died before her tenth year, he left her quite the legacy... Plegia's desire for vengeance... Our own people's unbridled rage... My sister became a target for blame on all sides. Her own subjects began to hurl insults - and stones. She still bears the scar from one... But she never let them see her pain. Only Lissa and I understood.”

Robin’s heart drops upon hearing this, and he stops fiddling to look Chrom in the eye for a moment. “It must have been so hard…”

Emmeryn had only shown Robin kindness since he joined their little band, even considering his potential Plegian background due to the filthy, old coat he came in wearing.

“I cannot claim to know how she does it, Robin. I could not greet such hostility with warmth and patience. While our people mocked and vilified her, she reached out and healed them. She brought soldiers home to their families. She ended the war.” Chrom stands. He's not wearing his armour, only his cloth clothing and Falchion at his side. “And when Ylisse's spirit was mended and the people ‘forgave’ her? ...She never resented them for it. She represents the best part of the halidom - the part most worth protecting. She IS peace. But some men would take advantage of that. Men like King Gangrel. The day he understands peace will be the day death gives it to him… So perhaps I must be death's agent. Emmeryn would never order him killed, nor would I wish her to.”

A slight silence falls upon the pair, Robin wrapping his arms around his knees.

“Well spoken, sir.”

Robin jolts, looking up to greet the sight of Marth, a mysterious swordsman walking up to them. He’s armed and ready for battle, his eyes hidden by a shadow cast from his mask.

“Marth…” Chrom says, his brow furrowing slightly, and Robin scrambles to his feet to greet the warrior more respectfully.

“Good evening to you.” Marth raises his eyebrow at seeing Chrom’s hair filled with leaves and Robin’s hurry to stand. Was that a small smile tugging at his lips? The white haired tactician’s cheeks redden. He knew how it looked, but it was anything but that. It would never be anything more. Chrom didn't seem to notice it at all.

“How did you get here?” He asks, confused: the gardens and courtyard were heavily fortified.

“The cleft in the castle wall,” Marth responds, crossing his arms. “Behind the maple grove.”

Chrom raises a blue eyebrow, crossing his arms in a similar fashion to Marth. “There? But how would you...? Ugh.”

Judging by his body language, Robin knew that Chrom knew exactly where the swordsman was talking about. “You know the place, Chrom?”

“Yes.” Chrom looks sheepish, refusing to meet Robin's eye. “I bashed in part of the wall while training the Shepherds. It's only a small hole, and I'd thought it well concealed, but…”

Robin has to stifle his laugh on the sleeve of his coat, and Marth’s smile grows temporarily.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Marth says, and then his smile drops. “I come here only to warn you.”

“Warn us?” Chrom questions, his hand resting on Falchion’s hilt.

“The exalt's life is in danger.” The bluntness behind Marth's words surprises Robin: he sounded so sure of himself. Was the castle currently under attack?

“What, Emmeryn?” Chrom shakes his head. “That's absurd. She's guarded at all hours.”

Marth bites his lip, and then nervously looks between the two. Nervously? That seemed so unlike the ever-calm and collected Marth. “What if... What if I told you I have seen the future? Would you believe me? A future where Emmeryn is killed. Here. Tonight.”

Chrom looks at the swordsman wildly. “Seen the future? Have you lost your wits?”

Marth sighs, looking to the ground. “Yes, I expected you wouldn't believe me. So allow me to prove it!”

He pulls his sword from its sheathe, and Parallel Falchion glints in the light emitting from the castle windows. It's pointed towards the pair. Chrom almost goes to pull his own, stepping in front of Robin in a protective stance, causing the tactician to blush. Oh, right. He had no weapon, so if Marth chose to run through him with that sword… Chrom probably didn't want his tactician to end up skewered.

“I'm about to save your life,” Marth says, throwing a sideways glance towards a tree. “...From him.”

Robin looks towards it, and almost leaps when he sees an assassin suddenly jump out and race towards their small group. Chrom begins to pull Falchion but Marth races forward.

In one swift motion, the swordsman intercepts the assassin by tossing Falchion into the air, leaping to catch it and bringing it down onto the assassin. Landing in a crouch, the assassin cries out, falling to the ground. Blood stains the grass.

“I trust this proof will suffice?” He asks, turning to face the prince and slowly standing.

Chrom’s face is white, but he slowly nods. “...Yeah.”

A rustle from the bushes causes Marth to suddenly look back, and is greeted by another assassin bursting from them. He raises Falchion to parry, but slips backwards on the fallen assassin's sword.

Almost in slow motion, the assassin's blade nicks his mask, slashing it clean in two. A surprised look crosses his face as long hair tumbles down his back. His surprisingly feminine face. Wait.

Robin is gaping at Marth, but his eyes catch Chrom rushing past the blue-haired… girl? and slashing the assassin down.

“Wait, you're-” Chrom turns to face her, a surprised look coating his features, “you're a woman?”

“And quite the actress, too,” she says, a humoured smile on her lips. “Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't figure it out until just now.”

An explosion rocks the ground, and Marth's smile drops. The three hurriedly race towards the castle.

**O~O~O**

The clang and pounding of the Shepherds hurriedly putting their armour on rings in Robin's head as he searches for his Thunder tome. Chrom had raced to Emmeryn's sleeping quarters with Marth, desperate to warn her. The explosions were from the enemy blowing up a chunk of the wall with Fire magic. Soldiers had been dispatched to keep them at bay, but it wouldn't last for long.

Robin, collecting his things finally, races out the door. Stahl is one room over, being helped into his chest plate by Vaike. They needed a plan, and fast.

The white-haired tactician meets Chrom, Emmeryn, Marth and a sleep deprived but alert Lissa in the main corridor, beside a painting. The princess wraps her arms around Robin quickly, almost knocking him over.

“Please tell me you have a plan,” she whines, her healing staff grasped in one hand.

Chrom is still without his armour, but he doesn't seem to care at this point. “We have an area for a situation like this: behind this painting here.”

With the help of Robin, the two men lift the painting and lower it. A wooden door hides a small room.

“Emm, in here,” he instructs, turning to his older sister. She's clutching her robes, a troubled look on her normally serene face.

“Chrom!” She cries, “take Lissa and flee while you still have time!”

Lissa now throws her arms around her sister. “Emm, no! We'll be fine, but you need to be safe!”

Robin grasps his chin, looking at the wooden door. “Is this door the only way in or out?”

Chrom turns to the tactician, a look of worry on his face. “Yes. It's the safest chamber we have.”

He bites his lip, and places aside his romantic feelings for Chrom. A plan was beginning to formulate in his mind. “Marth. I'll need you to stay by the door.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you certain I'm to be trusted, Sir?”

“You saved me back there, Marth,” Chrom says, resting his hand on Falchion's hilt. “And not just then. You also rescued my little sister all those weeks ago. I trust you with Emmeryn’s life.”

Marth swallows, and nods. “Thank you, Prince Chrom.”

A loud clanging of armour greets them as Frederick the Wary jogs into the room. “Prince Chrom! The enemy has broken through our defenses.”

“Call for the Shepherds! Prepare for battle.” Chrom calls, drawing Falchion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This will be quite a slow burn beginning, but I'm excited to see where it goes. I hope you guys are just as much!
> 
> I've copied this from my account on FF.net, where this story originates from. Updates will be posted there first and then here! I hope you guys like it though 


	2. Chapter 2

Standing in the courtyard over the bodies of his fallen assassins, Validar growls. “Hmph! Two assassins and the little princeling was not even wounded?”

He lifts his hand, purple flames washing over it to reveal an image of Chrom standing by in what looked to be the castle, speaking with his white-haired tactician… Wait. Some of these actors do not belong on this stage…

He squints at the white-haired man. Ho ho! Can it be?! After years of searching…

“Tonight, fate truly piles gifts at my feet!”

After a quick deliberation, Robin splits the Shepherds not defending the castle walls into two groups, with Chrom leading one and Frederick leading another.

“Have the cavaliers go down this hall directly to the source,” Robin instructs Frederick, a little put off from seeing horses inside the castle halls. “Perhaps taking out the leader will put a stop to this nonsense.”

“Robin!” Upon hearing his name, he turns to see Marth with a tall woman. Her hair(?) is braided with what looks like ears woven through them. “This is Panne. She came here tonight to join our cause.”

The tall woman blinks down at Robin. “Man-spawn.”

Man… spawn? He raises an eyebrow. “Er, good! If it's alright with you Panne, would you mind joining with Frederick’s group? The tall one on the horse.”

She joins the group, sniffing muzzles with the horses. A bewildered Stahl does his best to greet her and introduce her to a bothered Sully, before Frederick gives the command to begin moving.

Mildly amused, Robin turns to Chrom. He slotted himself easily into Chrom's group, along with Virion, Lissa and Miriel. It was easier to keep an eye on the prince if he needed protection, as well as lead the charge.

“Chrom,” he says, checking around the corner into the hall. It's empty, but a light from a torch is coming closer. “We'd best spread out. Virion, you stay with Lissa near the back. Miriel, keep to our flank.”

The prince nods, and smiles. “Sounds like you've got it all sorted.”

Flushing with pride, he nods. “We should be fine. We need to be far enough from Emmeryn so that we don't draw troops to her, but close enough to prevent her from being too far if Marth requires assistance.”

He draws his tome, edging down the hall with their little group. Miriel pushes her glasses into place, her Fire tome drawn and ready. Virion has an arrow notched. Lissa, scared looking but determined, stays close to Virion with her staff in front of her like a bat.

The lamp light grows closer, and a knight appears in view.

“Charge!” The knight shouts, and a horde of enemy forces come from around the corner. Knights. Thick armour, but very little magic resistance. Robin throws his hand out, blasting the fortified soldier onto his back with magical energy. Miriel does the same, slamming another one back with flames. The sound of cries echoes off the stone halls.

The aim of every fight was to allow a moment for the enemy to surrender, or to only hit them hard enough to stun them. Both Chrom and Robin idolized a world where bloodshed was at a minimum.

Two assassins run in, and meet Chrom's sword. A third one, standing a little ways from the two others, seems to hesitate amidst the chaos.

Chrom points his sword at the third assassin, towards his throat. “Drop your weapon, or die where you stand!”

The assassin drops his sword. It clangs to the floor, and he raises his hands in a defensive stance. “Easy there, blue blood. I'm not here to hurt anyone.”

“...Yet you run with a band of assassins?” A blast of thunder magic runs past Chrom's shoulder to hit a knight, stunning him before he can run his lance through Chrom. Robin steps in to be back to back with him, palm outward, looking back at the prince. Chrom is busy trying to guard himself from an axeman, dodging his heavy weapon.

“Believe it or not, just trying to make a living. I'm a thief, see?” The orange haired man totally ignores his allies falling around him, lowering his arms slowly. “Bust open doors, crack into chests... that kind of thing. This lot said they wanted to break into some kind of vault. Nobody said anything about murder. I'd just as soon sit this one out.”

“Hmm…” Chrom parries the axeman, and then slashes him with his sword. “Then perhaps you'd be willing to prove your good intentions?”

“Beg pardon?”

“We need all the help we can get to save the exalt's life.” Chrom gestures towards the group currently charging them. A band of dark mages are beginning to join the fray, and he grasps the assassin's shoulder to push him out of the way of a bolt of magic. “You appear capable, and we could use any information you have about our foes.”

“Oh, right: those good intentions. Fine then, I'll prove my sincerity... if you sweeten the deal.” The assassin picks up his sword again. An arrow flies past the group, landing in the arm of a dark mage.

“You want gold? ...Fine, you scoundrel. Let me just- oops.”

A blast of magic hits a small pouch on his belt, strewing its contents throughout the hall. “Looks like you dropped something,” The assassin points out, scooping down to collect one. “What's in the satchel, mmm?”

Lissa trots closer, waving her staff towards Chrom's leg. “Candies from my little sister. I'm sure you-”

“‘Candies’? As in, sugar candies?” A gleeful look crosses the orange-haired man’s face.

“Well... yes,” Chrom says, dodging another ball of magic and pushing Robin out of the way of it. His cheeks turn crimson. “I assume they'd be sweet? But-”

“IT'S A DEAL!” Without further ado, he scoops up a handful of the candies and rushes back into the battlefield. Chrom shoots a glance at Robin.

“Er, anyway-”

A bolt of lightning crashes towards him from a falling dark mage, and Robin shoves him out of the way. “We may be a little in over our heads,” the white-haired tactician says, looking around. “The enemy don't seem to be lessening.”

He looks back towards the main corridor. Marth is still standing there, Falchion raised and ready, but no one seems close to the entrance of the painting.

“Perhaps the other group are closer to their source,” Chrom says, clapping Robin's shoulder, and then joins the fray with Miriel, Virion, Lissa and their new companion.

**O~O~O**

Their new “companion” went by the name of Gaius, and he quickly fitted in with the group. Lissa was already slightly sick of him begging her for candies.

As for Panne, she settled in well. Robin hadn't been able to see it, but apparently she was a taguel and could shapeshift into a rabbit-like form. Donnel was raving on about it, having seen it in action from Frederick's group.

“D’ya like carrots, Panne? I'll be sure t’ get the best for ya, keep ya nice n’ strong-”

Frederick's team had defeated the enemy commander first, but he had escaped before they could capture him, much to Frederick's regret. But that would come later.

“Thank the gods you're safe!”

Chrom throws his arms around his sister, who is escorted to the prince by her right hand woman Phila and Marth. Lissa laughs, and also throws her arms around her siblings. A pang resounds in Robin's chest at the sight of such a close-knit family. How he longed for it, to be a part of a real family.

“It is you I have to thank, Chrom, and Lissa.” Emmeryn beams at the pair, and turns to Robin. “And you, too, Robin. Without your fast thinking, I'm not sure what would have happened.”

The tactician blushes. Phila swallows. “I beg your forgiveness, milord! I failed in my duty: they should never have made it into the castle in the first place.”

Chrom draws his arms back, and sends a knowing smile her way. “Peace, Phila. You couldn't have known what was coming. Only Marth could…”

He trails off, looking around, a confused look crossing his face.

“Yes, I would speak more with... Um… Robin, where's Marth?”

“Hmm…” Robin scans the area. She was right next to Emmeryn just before? It was almost like she had turned invisible. “An excellent question. She was here a moment ago…”

As if a puzzle piece has fallen into place, Chrom snaps to attention. “Not again!”

Watching the prince race out the hall, they each turn to each other in unison, before breathing a collective sigh of relief. Tonight had been an adventure. The dawn began to peak through the window.

**O~O~O**

Cleanup of Castle Ylisstol had begun. The first order of business was patching up the hole in the castle walls, an operation led by Vaike.

“Teach’ll have it fixed in no time!” He’d said, before dropping a hammer on his foot.

For now, Robin was resting in his bed, sheerly exhausted after that last battle. Thinking of a strategy on the fly was no big deal to the tactician anymore, but he still stressed immensely for his and the other Shepherds lives. Especially Chrom's, and Lissa’s…

There's a knock on his door, and Chrom pokes his head in. “I tried to stop Marth, but he- she ended up deciding to leave us again. I suppose until next time…”

Robin sits up, almost suddenly, as Chrom goes to shut the door to leave. “Can I ask you something, Chrom?”

“Uh-oh,” he chuckles, stepping inside the room. “Should I be nervous?”

Robin blushes, but swallows to lower his growing heartrate. Alone, in a room with Chrom…

No. He needed to shake those feelings away.

“When you found me collapsed and without memory, why did you take me in?” Robin questions, scrunching up the edges of his coat. There was no real logical explanation for it. Frederick was right in being unsure.

“Well…” Chrom sits across from him, on Stahl’s empty bed. A humoured tone colours his voice. “Because you were collapsed and without memory?”

“That's it?” Robin raises both his eyebrows, and then furrows them. “Pity was your reason?”

“Isn't that enough?”

Robin meets Chrom's eye, and sees the prince smile grow warmer.

“Did you ever stop to consider if it was some kind of trap?” Robin scratches the back of his neck, looking away. The memory of the dream that woke him up this morning is fresh in his mind. But it always ended the same. In the end, it implied that he would betray Chrom.

“Heh, that's what I had Frederick for.” Chrom smiles at the memory of Frederick's rash words. Understandable, considering Robin was found passed out in a field with a strange tattoo and Plegian coat.

“But why didn't-”

“Robin, if I see someone hurt or in need. I'm going to help them.” Chrom's insisting tone cuts through Robin like a knife. ”That's who I am, and there's no changing it. Or would you rather I'd left you there, face down in the muck?”

“No, of course not,” Robin says, in a leveled tone to fight his rising feelings. “I'm thankful for what you did, I truly am. But it scares me all the same. Chivalry and longevity don't often go hand in hand.”

Chrom actually laughs upon hearing that, causing Robin to blush. “Ha! I wish I had a gold coin for every time I got this lecture.”

“I can only offer advice, I'm afraid.” The tactician fidgets with this coat again. “You really should be more careful in the future.”

“This is not your- your fault…”

Robin visibly cringes at the memory of Chrom's pained voice.

“I'm sorry, but no. If it happened again today, I'd do the same exact thing…” Chrom stands, and claps his friend on the shoulder.

He's very aware of the feeling of Chrom's hand. “But-”

“Peace, Robin. I have heard your counsel, and I know you mean well.” The prince smiles, and drops his hand from the embarrassed tactician's shoulder. “But as I said, this is who I am. I can't change that, nor would I want to.”

“I... I understand. If that is your decision, then so be it.” Robin looks to his lap. “Just do try and be careful, Chrom. For my peace of mind, if not your own?”

Chrom grasps one of Robin's hands, and squeezes it kindly. “I will. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

It had been less than a week after the attack on Castle Ylisstol, and yet a small group of the Shepherds had already begun a march towards the east.

The assassination attempt did not sit well with Chrom, and he insisted that Emmeryn relocate or find shelter away from the castle. After much discussion with the other lords and ladies, they settled on Emmeryn being relocated to the holiday palace in East Ylisse.

Remembering the warm feeling of Chrom's ungloved hand on his own had brought a blush to Robin’s cheeks around the prince. When asked about it, the tactician said he felt feverish and would drink from his water skin. So pathetic. He stayed behind Chrom during this march.

“Ugh, my poor feet,” Lissa says, trudging along besides her brother and Frederick. “I've blisters the size of eggs!”

“Oh, it's not so bad, Lissa. Just a healthy little stroll!” Chrom turns to her to smile, and looks back at the white-haired man. “How are you holding up, Robin?”

He averts his eyes, looking at the view from the mountain. Green and trees stretched for miles. “My legs feel like pudding... Your endurance astounds me, Chrom.”

“Hah!” Chrom looks back to the front, and then shoots a glance back again. “Should I carry you?”

Robin's face turns crimson, and refuses to look up. Did Chrom intentionally say that to get a reaction out of him?

“You can carry me!” Lissa chimes in, grabbing her brothers arm to steady herself. “...No, seriously. I would really be okay with you carrying me.”

“Hmm…”

To Robin's left is the Hierarch of Ylisstol, looking nervously towards the mountain peaks they will soon be reaching. He's an older gentleman, and has guided Emmeryn through her reign for many years.

Frederick looks back at the pair. His pace is relaxed, his arms behind his back. “Is something troubling you, Hierarch? You keep glancing up at the peaks.”

The man jumps, and fixes his glasses. “Hmm? Oh, I'm just a b-bit nervous I'm afraid. Gh-ghastly times, these!”

Robin looks at the older man from the corner of his eye, refusing to look up to hide his blush. Judging by his body language, he wasn't just a bit nervous, he was incredibly nervous. Robin couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something felt… off.

Suddenly, two brigands bearing colours of Plegia raced towards the group, swords drawn. They're cackling. A murmur ripples through their group as they hurriedly surround Emmeryn to protect her.

“Plegian soldiers? Damn! How did they know we were here?” Chrom draws Falchion, his armour and sword glinting in the sun. He hurriedly raises his sword to parry an attack. “Everyone! Prepare for battle, and quick!”

Joining the two brigands is a team of wyvern riders, led by a man with a rat-like sneering face. Vasto inhales deeply, the grin growing upon seeing Chrom and his small team backing up and drawing weapons. They look incredibly small compared to their army. “Ahhhh… Smell that, men? The winds of fortune are blowing our way!”

Upon seeing the wyvern riders, the Hierarch runs out from the group into no man's land, much to the horror of the Shepherds. “Hold, sir! I am the man King Gangrel told you about! Did you not receive orders to take me into your protection?!”

“Hierarch!” Chrom shouts, a look of shock crossing his face.

“I've orders to protect a man, true…” He tosses his throwing axe in his hands, catching it each time. “But I see no man here! ...Only a pig! A rasher of traitorous bacon that sold out his own sovereign! And what do we do with little piggies, mmm?”

The Hierarch pushes his glasses up his nose. “Well, you... I mean, perhaps... You let them go free?”

Vasto cackles. “Oh, are you a chicken now? Bawk bawk! We've a whole barnyard in our midst!”

The laugh dies, and a cruel smile colours his face. “Well, it doesn't matter what you are. The axe will fall just the same!”

The Hierarch screams, and falls back as a brigand brings his axe forwards. One swing, and then silence. The Shepherds watch on in silent horror. Tears streak down Emmeryn’s cheeks: how could the Hierarch betray them like this?

“Right! Now for the main event.” As if nothing had happened, the rider directs his wyvern forwards over the corpse. “By noon's end, they'll be erecting statues of me in the capital! Ho there! Ylisseans! Give me the Fire Emblem and your wench of a ruler, and spare yourselves a gory end!”

Robin feels Chrom tense, and he looks back. “Phila, take Emmeryn to the rear of the column. We'll fend off these blackguards!”

Gripping the exalt's shoulder, Phila steers her away from the battle and towards her pegasus, lance drawn in one hand if anyone tried anything.

A flash of red catches Robin's eye, and he watches a streak of white and red zoom past them. “No! Plegians here as well?!”

The blur stops, and it's a Pegasus Knight with long, red hair and a pretty face. She hovers her pegasus over the cliff edge to their right. “Prince Chrom! Captain Phila! Beware! Enemy reinforcements to the rear! They'll be upon us soon!”

From her position behind them, Phila squints. “Is that... Gods, Cordelia?!”

Cordelia? Robin hadn't met this woman yet, but he saw the desperation on her face. Her words sunk deep into him. Phila stops Emmeryn. “But she was stationed on the border... Why..? Oh, gods! Could it mean..?”

Robin turns to Emmeryn. “Phila! Quickly, take Emmeryn and go back towards Ylisse. Go towards those trees and use them as a cover!”

He points towards the view he was admiring not even ten minutes ago. Phila nods, mounting her pegasus, and after helping Emmeryn up behind her takes off. Sumia, mounted on her own pegasus, rises and forms a protective wall with Cordelia to prevent the wyvern riders from following.

Vasto sneers, backing up towards a taller mountain as shelter. “No matter. She'll come running back once she hears we've little princeling’s hands tied.”

Robin steps forwards, tome drawn. The enemy are sizing them up, now that they're positioned. There's a team of archers positioned higher on the hill, drawn and ready for their movement. Their Pegasus Knights were very open, but thankfully out of range.

“Cordelia, Sumia, I want you to fly around in an arc towards the back.” Robin raises a hand to cover his mouth, preventing the enemy from hearing properly.

“Vaike, and, erm…” Robin furrows his brow. Didn't they have a knight somewhere?

“Kellam, sir,” the man kindly reminds, suddenly appearing in his vision.

“Vaike and Kellam, please take the front. We'll need these axemen taken out.”

The two nod, and wait for the signal to move. Chrom looks at his tactician, a smile forming on his face. This band of brigands had no idea what was about to hit them.

“Virion, you're a sharper shooter than these fools: you can take them.” The archer flips his hair, and smiles proudly.

“Ricken, focus on the wyvern riders. Your wind magic is very strong against them.” The boy flushes proudly, his tome ready.

“Frederick, we need a shield.” The brown haired man nods, tensing and ready. “Lissa, stay near him.”

“Now on my cue… Attack!”

The Shepherd’s burst into position. Sumia and Cordelia, after sharing a quick glance, fly outwards towards the outlying Wyvern Riders. Their axes were stronger than lances, but they could hold them for now.

Smoothly, Virion draws his bow and lands an arrow square in the chest of an enemy archer, and Kellam raises his shield to protect the two of them from a return shower of them. Frederick does the same. Vaike races towards an enemy axeman, and raises his own, catching him by surprise. Chrom runs in with Teach, Falchion high and ready, and runs through a second one with it. Ricken stays behind near Lissa, tossing Elwind out towards any stray enemy units and knocking them back.

Robin stays close to Chrom, but shoots his magic towards the archers. One by one, they fall. Vasto’s desperate commands fall on deaf ears as the Wyvern Riders fly in, but are met with Virion’s arrows and Ricken’s Elwind.

Dodging an axe, Robin sends a bolt of lightning in it's owner's face when he hears Lissa cry out. Whipping around, an axeman is advancing on her, his weapon raised and a devilish smile painting his lips.

A flash of blue shoots past in Robin's peripheral vision. Chrom raises his sword as he runs towards them, but not as quickly as Frederick's lance does. It impales the axeman, who lets out a guttural sound before slumping to the ground, blood pooling around him.

An archer, seeing Chrom and Frederick suddenly out of position, let's fly an arrow straight for Chrom’s unprotected back. Robin's blood goes cold, and it's almost like time slows down as his feet move for him.

Robin shoves Chrom out of the way, landing in a heavy heap on the grass with the prince. He gasps for air, out of breathe, his heart racing and running on pure adrenaline.

Chrom blinks, slightly winded from hitting the ground so hard, unsure of what exactly just happen. Falchion had skittered past them on the grass and wasn’t close enough to reach if this was an enemy. Looking down towards his torso, he sees a flash of white hair and sighs a sigh of relief. But that relief is quickly replaced with worry.

“Robin!”

The tactician gasps for air, finding he almost quite literally can't find his breath as raw pain rips through him. Robin hadn't been fast enough. The arrow had sunk deep into the tactician's shoulder and collarbone, and he rolls onto his back away from Chrom. Gasping like a fish out of water, Robin tries to grasp the arrow to pull it out. Blood is desperately trying to spurt from the wound, staining the grass around them red.

The prince sits up, and grabs Robin’s desperate hand. “Stop! Pulling it out now will just quicken your death. Breathe, Robin, breathe!”

The panic rises in Robin's chest. Would he die here? Tears begin to form as he sobs, the pain so great. Every breath was like a hot knife scraping across his throat and shoulder.

Lissa drops to his side, a look of horror painting her delicate features at the sight. “I can't fully heal a wound like this. He'll have to retreat and get back to Ylisse as soon as possible.”

Chrom’s grip on Robin's hand tightens. The sounds of the battle seemed to be getting further and further away. “Ylisse is hours away! We need to stop the bleeding.”

“Chrom!” Frederick raises his shield to protect them from another arrow, and Virion quickly shoots one in return to stop the remaining archer. Good. That means Cordelia and Sumia should be able to swoop in about now…

As if on cue, Robin hazily watches the two pass them with Ricken, aiming for the last of the Wyvern Riders and their panicked leader. His vision seems to be blurring as he looks back at Chrom's face. Chrom…

He sees him saying something, but white noise replaces sounds. Maybe Robin truly was dying. The tactician groans, his head lolling backwards, but it's perched up by Chrom quickly. Chrom is still holding his hand. A giddy smile begins to wash over his face. Chrom was holding his hand!

He sees a tearful Lissa reposition herself across from Chrom, and firmly grasp the end of the arrow. With one hand on her staff, she looks to Chrom, and says something Robin can't hear. White seems to be appearing around his vision as his heart rate slows, and Chrom releases his hand to grasp Robin's chin. Tilting his face away from Lissa, Chrom says something, but Robin just blankly looks at the prince. All he could see was Chrom. The view behind him was gone, no trees, no sky, no green. Just white. And Chrom.

And then there was a sudden ripping pain, and darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwback to how Xeno was my first reviewer, yet again they are here haha. They also pointed out to me that I can reply to comments here! Let me know in the comments if you spot any errors


	4. Chapter 4

Robin comes to slowly. He twitches his fingers, breathing in deep as he feels a hot flash of pain rip through his shoulder. Ouch.

The tactician balls his hand into a fist, hazily remembering the feeling of Chrom's larger hand wrapped around his when the prince had desperately stopped him from removing the arrow himself... It fit so well. He had only held Chrom's hand three times, each probably out of friendship, but Robin knew he longed to hold it again and again.

He inches an eye open, but shuts it again when he realises its way too heavy to. Perhaps he'd been drugged. Coming to in a haze was never a good sign. A groan escapes his lips.

“Robin!”

Chrom’s voice cuts through his stupor like a blade, and his eye snaps open again. The prince is sitting on a stool near his bed. They're in an infirmary: Robin recognises the white colour scheme and scent of medicine, and completely alone. A look of relief coats his face.

“Thank the gods you're okay, friend,” Chrom says breathlessly, and places his hand on Robin's. The tactician swallows. Friend.

“Where… are we?” Robin groans, and then a rush of memories flood his mind. “What happened? Did we defeat them? Is Emmeryn okay? Urgh…”

The rapid speech accelerated his heart rate, making his shoulder throb more. Robin reaches up. He's shirtless, and can feel the rough texture of bandages covering the wound. Touching it really hurts, and he winces.

“Peace, Robin, she's... fine. She's gone back to the capital. We're currently in Ferox.” Chrom leans back, and passes a waterskin to Robin. “Here, drink. You've been out since yesterday.”

Robin, with Chrom's help, sits up and gulps down the cool water within it. Since yesterday. Judging from the light outside the window, it was already evening. He lowers the skin, and lightly touches the bandages again. They stretched from his neck to his shoulder.

“I want to thank you for, er, having my back,” Chrom begins. “It was foolish for me to assume Frederick was unable to help Lissa. I heard her scream, and just dove right into action without a second thought…”

Chrom cups his own chin, leaning on the edge of the bed. “But that's still no reason for you to have also abandoned position and save me. An arrow in me is a lesson, an arrow in you is a mistake. We need you healthy, Robin. Without you, the Shepherd's are without their tactician.”

Robin swallows, looking to his lap. He feels Chrom squeeze his good shoulder gently. “I appreciate the sentiment, though. I'd do the same for you, friend.”

There was that word again. Friend. It hurt Robin more than the wound in his shoulder, slicing through him like a knife. But Chrom was right. They could never be anything more than just friends.

It was impossible.

“My apologies, Chrom,” he murmurs, afraid to raise his voice in case the prince hears it's wobble. “I just… saw it coming towards you, and I acted out of line. Besides, your life is much greater than mine. I'm nothing compared to you.”

The last sentence draws a sad smile to Robin's lips. He truly would never be anything. The white haired man was just a nobody with no memory and barely a name to his own face.

Chrom bites his lip. “But you are, Robin. You're not just a fantastic tactician. You're my friend, and you're the friend of many others now. Life would be very different if you hadn't joined the Shepherd's… I'm very grateful to have met you.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes Robin's heart skip a beat.

“Now, I'll be right back.” The prince stands, his cape fluttering with the movement. “They're serving bear stew tonight, and I know bear meat is your favourite so I'll go get you a bowl. Rest up, Robin.”

The tactician blinks at the kind gesture. Perhaps after saving his life, Chrom felt that he'd better save Robin's, too.

A cleric comes to check his bandages while Chrom is gone.

“You're very lucky,” she tuts, unwrapping them. “It didn't hit any main arteries, nor your throat or heart, but it was incredibly close.”

Robin stills his heart as she dabs an ointment onto the wound. It burns, and he struggles to breathe with the pain.

“Your skin also wouldn't knit back together, despite our joint efforts here.” She begins to rewrap them. “You'd best not fight any battles for a week or two at least, while it heals.”

Robin splutters. “But I'm needed on the battlefield. Is there nothing I can do?”

The nurse shakes her head. “It was very deep, and very close to just killing you… movement in battle can easily open the wound again, and you risk bleeding out. Prince Chrom was beside himself when he arrived with you on Frederick's horse, Princess Lissa had done her best to keep you together with her magic...”

Robin swallows. Up to two weeks recovery. That's two weeks he couldn't direct the Shepherds, nor help them in any dire situations.

Chrom returns as the nurse finishes her job, and she kindly bows her head before leaving. He has a small tray with a steaming bowl of meat. “How are you feeling now?”

Robin shakes his head, aghast. “I'm supposed to rest for two weeks. How can I rest during a time like this? Plegian soldiers are crossing Ylisse’s borders. Emmeryn could have been killed if not for Cordelia's warning.”

The tactician's hand scrunches in his white hair as he thinks. Perhaps it would be fine… the Shepherd's would need to rest after a fight like that. After a week, perhaps the tactician would be able to at least be on the field with them, out of danger but close enough to yell tactics to the troops.

“Relax, Robin,” Chrom soothes, grasping the tactician's wrist. “Rest is important, and we'd best not push it. Now, eat up.”

The scent of the stew makes Robin feel more nauseous, but using his right hand he manages to scoop some of it up and have a mouthful. The bear meat is beautiful and gamey, and his mouth waters at the taste.

Robin wolfs down the food, suddenly realizing just how hungry he is. Given he hadn't eaten for over twenty four hours, he wasn't that surprised. Nor was he surprised when he felt his stomach twist from the sudden food intake.

He puts his hand to his mouth, feeling it fill with saliva. Chrom has a bemused look on his face.

“By eat up I didn't mean to gorge yourself on it,” he notes, smiling. “Need a bucket?”

Robin nods, and the bucket is passed to him. He dry heaves.

“I've some things to sort before our next march, but I feel bad just leaving you…” Chrom creases his brow.

“Just go,” Robin gasps out, doing his best to hold his stomach in. Chrom laughs.

**O~O~O**

After a full day of resting, Robin was finally allowed to get up and walk around.

Castle Ferox, with its tall dark halls and simple interior, reflected the cold of the snow outside. Robin shivers even under his thick coat, away from the warmth of the infirmary.

If the Shepherd's were being held here, they were awfully quiet. Robin had only passed a few Feroxian soldiers on his way to the food hall. He roughly remembered where it was from their last trip through this area.

The Feroxian mess hall was open to all soldiers, generals and civilians to come get a warm meal. Panne, the taguel that had joined them about a week ago, is sitting with Virion and Sully.

“Can you be not yourself for five seconds, Ruffles? Leave the poor girl alone.” Sully is standing, arms crossed and eyes pointing daggers towards the archer. Panne seems to be ignoring the pair, eating a selection of vegetables, across from Virion.

“Ah, hello there Robin,” Virion says smoothly, ignoring the cavalier and the taguel. “How goes your wound?”

Robin chuckles, and it hurts. “Horribly. Where are the others? We seem to be lacking quite a few…”

Sully looks down, darkly, and even Virion averts his eyes. Something was wrong.

“Chrom ordered a march to Plegia. Ylisstol has… fallen. Exalt Emmeryn has been ordered to be publicly executed.”

Robin's blood turns cold. No! This soon? She should have been safe with Phila…

“Then… then he needs me!” Robin says, firmly but panicked. “Walking into Plegia without a plan is walking into a pit of death!”

Sully sits at the table heavily. “Robin, he was pretty specific in leaving while you were resting. Chrom didn't want to risk more, er, potential damage.”

A spike of anger fills him. What a ridiculous thing to do. “Our Exalt, and now both of her younger siblings, are in danger! We need to go to them. Chrom might be fine, but we can't risk them being in a situation without a plan of attack.”

Robin sits at the table, looking between the three. “Who is left here? Just you guys? I'll march alone if I have to.”

A smirk quickly flutters on Sully's lips. She'd been vehement against being left behind. The Shepherd's ALL needed to be there to rescue Emmeryn and fight for Ylisse, but Chrom was firm in his decision to take a smaller group.

“Me, the taguel, Ruffles, and a few others. Ricken, Maribelle, Stahl, Cordelia, and, er, another guy…”

The sound of someone clearing their throat alerts Robin to a man in a huge suit of armour sitting next to Panne. Kellam, forgotten again. “Me! I don't know why he left me, I'm pretty strong…”

“Ah yeah, and Kellam,” Sully says, pointing at him with her thumb. She grins at Robin.

“Ain't no way in hell we're just gonna sit here like ducks. I’ll march with you, Robin.”

Virion smiles. “I'll go alert the others. Lady Maribelle was fuming at the thought of being left behind, the boy too…”

Panne rests her hand on the table. “I've… hardly met the man-spawn you call 'exalt’, but she has only shown kindness to me and respect for my kind, as well as the blue-haired one. I'll run with your warren. ”

Relief washes over Robin. “We will march within the hour, then,” he says, standing. His shoulder still throbbed, but it wouldn't stop him now.

**O~O~O**

Robin and the remaining Shepherd's gather at the south entrance of Ferox, shivering in the cold but determined. Robin was paired with Cordelia, whose cheeks are just as red as her hair. Riding would be the fastest way to travel, as Robin had hypothesised Chrom and the others travelled mainly on foot. He does some last minute writing in his journal as the others get ready.

“I refuse to ride,” Panne says, before transforming into her rabbit form. It still surprises Robin to see it happen. “I'm fast enough to run on foot next to you, man-spawns.”

Cordelia is ecstatic, bouncing in her saddle. She imagined flying in like how she had at Breakneck Pass, and being an ever grateful Chrom's knight in shining armour. Then, he'd ask for her hand in marriage then and there, sweeping her into his arms… the thought brings a lovestruck smile to her face. She'd been so upset when she was told she'd be left behind.

“Within the hour, that's hardly enough time for a lady to be ready!” Maribelle snaps, holding the reins of her own horse steady while Ricken does his best to scramble on behind her. “Oh, do hurry Ricken! We haven't all day, if we truly must leave within the hour-’

Stahl is paired with Virion, who looks almost disgusted at the idea. The grey-haired archer would have much rathered riding with one of the women. Stahl doesn't seem to care, a huge smile on his face. They're going to save the exalt!

Sully almost forgot about Kellam again, and only remembers when she mounts her own steed. She laughs, helping the man up behind her.

“Robin.”

The tactician turns back to the entrance. Khan Flavia is there, sword by her side and leading her own horse by the rein. She's grinning.

“I couldn't just sit here. They took the oaf and his soldiers, but not me? Pah. No wonder we're chasing after them.”

Robin smiles. “Pleasure to have you aboard, Flavia.”

She walks up to the tactician, and he snaps his journal shut. “Are you certain you're up to the task, Robin? It won't be easy, especially when Chrom finds out you went after him. You’ll be holding the exalt's life in one hand, and all of ours in the other.”

Robin chooses his words carefully, climbing up behind Cordelia. His shoulder burns from the pain as it takes his weight. “It's a responsibility I do not take lightly. But I am equal to the challenge and do not fear the Plegian army or the work of their own tactician, nor what Chrom will have to say.”

Flavia mounts her own horse, laughing. “Ha ha! You've got stones, at least. I like that!”

Robin smiles gently in response, before looking at their little party. More or less, they all seemed ready to go.

“Alright, Shepherds. Let's march!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story has taken a slightly tweaked route to the main awakening story, Robin has been absent from some conversations due to his injury and whatnot. Chrom is gonna be mega angry that his injured tactician followed after him, but Chrom also shouldn't have left him behind haha


	5. Chapter 5

Travelling through the bitter cold only to emerge into unbearable heat was truly an experience. Within a few hours of travelling during the day, even after stopping for a much needed rest at the midpoint, they were already nearing the border.

Their small team cross the border into Plegia with surprisingly no skirmishes. It threw Robin off to see it completely unguarded, especially given the situation Plegia would find itself in. The hot desert sands begin to become unbearable as they travel on the road.

“Goodness, I do wish I were left behind again now…” Maribelle has her parasol open over her shoulder, and a flustered Ricken has been given the job of fanning her.

“Not much further now,” Robin says, unbearably hot behind Cordelia beneath his thick coat. They claim this was of Plegian design, yet why would a Plegian coat be this warm? “The others would have stuck to the main road. The sands are too unbearable to walk through, and there is a village ahead.”

Robin is almost excited to see Chrom again, despite his anger from being left behind intentionally. His shoulder felt fine for now. Given it was his left that was injured, he should be fine to fight with only his right hand.

“Ahead, Robin!”

Sully, from her position near the front, calls back to the team. He squints. A mirage has settled over the desert, making it hard to see, but he could see it.

It’s Sumia.

She's soaring above the desert near a large skeleton, her pegasus flicking up a sandstorm around her and she brings down her lance. When she rises again, he recognises the colour of the fallen soldiers garb. Plegian.

“I don't like the looks of this,” Flavia mutters, pulling her sword from it's sheathe.

“Quick, Shepherds, to arms!” Robin shouts the words, pulling his tome out and sliding off the side of the pegasus so it could take off after such a long journey. Cordelia's pegasus break out into a canter as she rushes to help her friend, quickly picking up enough speed to glide. Sumia sees her, and cries out in a happy but confused way as she flies her pegasus to meet her.

With their small team still running down the main road, Robin hurriedly makes a detour to run across the sands towards a small village. Sumia glides over to him, and helps him onto her own pegasus’ back as Cordelia zooms away from the pair and towards the fight.

“Robin! You shouldn't have come here, you're injured!” Sumia does her best to help him on, seeing him wince when his shoulder takes weight.

“I'll be fine. I'm more concerned about the fact that Chrom would just leave me behind!” Sumia takes off again, her pegasus much stronger than Cordelia's, whipping over the sands much faster than Robin could on his own. They were currently without a plan.

Sumia, dodging a magical attack from an enemy, brings Robin close to the thick of battle. Chrom, Vaike and a man Robin didn't recognise were clashing weapons with Plegian soldiers. Dark Mages were keeping the Shepherds at bay while they attempted to ransack one of the small villages. It was a standoff between their magic and the Shepherd’s. Whenever a dark mage attempted to enter the village, Miriel would send flames in their faces.

From behind the group of Plegian’s, Ricken sends out a blast of Elwind, knocking the dark mages aside from the surprise attack. The main road had led them straight to the village entrance.

Suddenly, a dragon cries out and soars above one of the villages, and shoots out a powerful slush of her breath towards a group of Plegian mercenaries. They cry out, and attempt to dodge the attack. Robin, out of panic, hurries to open his tome to defend himself if needed but the dragon simply lowers to the ground, and in a bright flash of light transforms into a young girl, running to stand with Chrom and Vaike.

Cordelia swoops in, diving her lance into the soldier attacking Chrom. She looks to the prince, glowing, but is horrified to see the prince’s eyes focused on Sumia and Robin.

Sumia drops Robin off, and the white-haired man slide off her pegasus’ back to drop onto the sand. He'd done it a bit too quickly, and falls into a heap on the ground. Chrom looks away, flustered. Robin should be resting! Being involved in a war was not his priority right now.

The mysterious man extends a hand to Robin. “Oy! Gregor has not met this man yet. Let Gregor help.”

Robin takes it, and is pulled to his feet fast. The man is dressed in a sellsword’s garb. “I am Gregor. Very swell sword! Any friend of pretty Pegasus lady is a friend of Gregor.”

Sumia blushes under the desert sun, flying her pegasus back to her original post.

“And I'm Nowi!” The little girl grins widely at Robin, before turning back into a dragon. “This is kinda fun! RAWR!!”

Chrom raises his sword to parry an axe. “You shouldn't be here, Robin. We were just fine.”

Robin opens his tome, holding it with his injured arm. “I suppose it is best that I rest, but given the circumstances rest will have to come later.”

Chrom, frustrated, slashes the axe man to the side without a second thought. “My sister has been sentenced to death, Robin. I'm not losing you, too.”

Robin swallows at those words, his cheeks warming slightly. He shoots out a blast of thunder towards the Plegian group leader, who is now hulking towards them, who dodges the attack. The tactician backs up, sizing up his opponent. “Regardless, I'm here now. You need a plan for rescuing Emmeryn. You can't work on instinct alone.”

As if on cue, Robin spots the leaders weak point. Being a mage, he was dressed in only robes, probably to also avoid overheating under this hot sun.

“Nowi, to the left!”

She shoots out a slurry towards the dark mage, toppling him over, and Gregor finishes him off with his sword.

Chrom sheathed Falchion, turning to the tactician. He looks strained.

“Robin, I… apologize for leaving you behind, as well as the remaining Shepherds.” He swallows, and averts his gaze.

“Hey, don't forget about me!”

Lissa walks up to him, jabbing him in the chest. “You got Frederick to babysit me away from the fight! Not fair!”

Chrom laughs, a little stiffly. “Sorry, Lissa, I’m just so afraid to risk losing you, too…”

Nowi, now transformed back into a human, looks at the argument and wails. “This is just the worst-” She kicks the sand- “Day-” Chrom steps back, a little bewildered- “EVER!”

“Ho now, wee one!” Gregor laughs, strong and heartily. “Do not make with the crying of tears. The evil people are now dead people. This is good, no?”

“You... You're right. Th-thank you.” She wipes the corners of her eyes with both gloved hands. “And... I'm sorry I was so mean to you earlier. I just get nervous around people who are, er, outside my age group.”

“Your age group? Ha! Gregor much closer to your age than others here!” The rest of the Shepherds had already begun to prepare for the trip onwards, bandaging one another where needed, and many happy reunions were made.

“Say, um… Gregor, was it?” Chrom grasps his chin, thinking. The sun was beginning to sink. “Gregor, do you mind looking after her? We need to press on.”

“Mmm... Gregor is mercenary, yes? Maybe you hire Gregor instead. True, Gregor just finish killing former employers, but still very reliable!” He smiles, widely. “So long as you not try to hurt little girl, Gregor will not hurt you. Also, Gregor need steady income… Many angry former employers.”

“You're a sellsword?” Chrom raises an eyebrow. Perhaps introductions hadn't happened before the fight.

The tall man nods. “Yes! Very swell sword, as Gregor told white-haired man before! Cost performance very high. You have Gregor's word.”

Chrom catches Robin's eye, and shrugs, smiling kindly. “Sure, why not? You're hired.”

“But- But what about me?!” Nowi pouts, looking at Chrom with big puppy-dog eyes. “I WON'T go back on the auction block!”

Lissa looks at the girl with shock painting her face. “Wait. You've been sold? Like a...like a slave?!” Her hands cover her mouth quickly.

“To men more despicable than you can possibly imagine.” Nowi's face hardens, and she suddenly looks very old. “They made me transform for them... They drank and laughed and called out tricks…”

Lissa’s brow furrows, and she almost comically makes her hands into fists. “What kind of scumbags buy and sell a little girl?! Even if she can turn into a dragon…”

Frederick kindly interjects. “She may be little, milady, but not nearly so young as you might think. Manaketes live a very long time.”

Manakete… the word chimed a chord in Robin's memory. He must have read about them at some point.

“Really?” Lissa's mouth drops open. “How old are you?”

“Oh, I dunno… A thousand… something?” She taps her chin, but then grins and slaps her cheeks. “But look! No wrinkles!”

“The dragonkin are said to be more resilient than men,” Frederick rumbles. “Nowi would make a strong ally. Besides, we cannot risk her falling back into the hands of the Grimleal.”

Grimleal. Robin had an inkling of an idea about the name, but asked anyway. “Beg pardon, but who are the Grimleal?”

“Followers of the fell dragon, Grima.”

The name made Robin's blood run cold, but he wasn't sure why. Frederick continues. “The selfsame dragon the first exalt defeated a thousand years ago. Even today there are some who yearn for the fiend's return.”

Robin grasps his chin. “I… see.”

A slight silence falls, and Flavia chips in.

“Well, shall we set up a camp and get some rest? We're almost at the Plegian capital. We'll need all our strength, soon enough…”

**O~O~O**

The Shepherds set up a camp near one of the outlying villages, hidden behind its tall walls. Robin will be sharing a tent with Donnel and Vaike, but before he calls it a night he sits by himself away from the group, on a soft hill made from sand. The cold is gripping, but the stars are beautiful.

“Mind if I join you?”

Chrom trudges up to him, sand filling his boots. It'll take them weeks after this to remove all the sand currently clinging to the Shepherds.

“Go ahead,” Robin murmurs, looking away from the prince. He feels the sands shift as Chrom sits next to him.

“A lot has changed within these past twenty four hours,” he notes. “Emmeryn being sentenced to death… gods, Gangrel can't mean that. Is he truly that insane?”

Robin’s eyebrow twitches. “She'll be okay. I've already started formulating a plan. With all of our combined efforts the Plegian army won't stand a chance.”

Chrom lets out a pained laugh. “Thanks Robin. I trust you with my life, and hers.”

Robin shifts, uncomfortably. “I… would appreciate not being left out of a conversation like that next time. I thought we were closer than that.”

The moment the words come out of his mouth, he winces, and blushes. Closer?! Think your words through better, Robin!

Chrom sighs, leaning forwards heavily. “I wasn't thinking, Robin… You're right, we do need your tactical guidance on this one. Even if you're injured.”

Robin bites his lip, looking towards the prince who is looking away. An odd feeling had started to settle over him, like there was a hum of electricity in the air.

“Chrom-”

“I’m very grateful I met you, Robin.” Chrom says the words, firmly. “Thank you for staying by my side through this, and having my back. I was so scared to have nearly lost you, not just because you're an invaluable tactician, but also because you're my friend.”

“But what if somehow, I don't save Emmeryn tomorrow?” Robin winces at the thought.

Chrom hums. “If that were the case… I don't know, but I know that you would have done your best to save her. Emm is strong, I'm sure we can rescue her. You care about her immensely obviously, since you're so determined to save her.”

It was true that Robin also really loved Ylisse's exalt, but that wasn't the full story.

Robin falters a little, before tensing, and looking away. “Chrom, I need to tell you something.”

“Hm? What is it?” The prince looks at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“I…” How could Robin say this? “I worry for you, Chrom. Deeply. I don't want you to be in a position where you would panic or be without a plan. You act rashly, risking your own life for others… I can't imagine a world where you die...”

Robin remembers his nightmares, and winces.

“It’s not… not your fault…”

The memory of Chrom's pained eyes, his hand grasping Robin's cheek, the life fading from Chrom’s dark blue eyes-

“I will always protect you, Chrom. I… I love you.” Robin blurts the words out, and then slaps his hands over his mouth.

Finally, he’d said it. After all these months of keeping it a secret, Robin had finally told the prince.


	6. Chapter 6

Chrom stares at Robin, and then blinks. Gods, say something Chrom!

“Er, I’m unsure about how it works wherever you're from but normally Ylisseans don't say that unless-”

“ _Chrom_ ,” the white-haired tactician interrupts, standing up and sinking a little into the sand. “That’s the reason why I constantly risk my life for you. Because I love you like how a man would love a woman…” He cringes at his own words. Rubbing more salt in the wound that that they were both men, and that this was uncommon, and uncomfortable for the tactician to even be saying.

But he had had these feelings since day one. Since Chrom had took his hand to help him stand. Robin felt the electricity surge through him when he first laid eyes on the prince.

“But you're a prince,” Robin says, finally, after a short period of stunned silence. The tactician's eyes fill with tears as regret pools in his stomach. “Not just that, you're also the leader of an army that I am the tactician of. It's too scandalous, and unfitting of a royal. I'm so sorry, Chrom. I- I shouldn't have told you. Not right now at least, when your sister is in such a situation.”

Chrom swallows, and Robin walks away back to his tent, crossing his arms around his own body. The silence was unbearable.

**O~O~O**

_The thick of battle. Soldiers cry out, brandishing lances, desperate to defend themselves from the Risen. Villages are in flames, and a shadow seems to have fallen over the citadel._

_The Risen themselves aren't letting up, and the interior that most of the soldiers are fighting in is quickly becoming stained with bloodshed. A female soldier screams when a Risen knocks her weapon aside, slamming her up against a wall with it's foul breath breathing down her neck._

_She closes her eyes, ready to face her death, when a sword suddenly goes through the Risen’s middle. It lets out a guttural noise as begins to drops to the floor._

_“I believe the woman you want… is me!” It's attacker slashes upwards, turning the Risen into black dust. It's Marth._

_She turns back to the soldier, gripping Falchion close. “We can't let these things win. Now grab a sword…”_

_She parries an axeman Risen’s attack, slashing it backwards. “And FIGHT!”_

Robin’s eyes snap open, his breath suddenly coming out in a gasp. Lissa is by the side of his bedroll, but jumps back when the white-haired man wakes up.

“Robin?” He hardly hears her, desperately clinging to his dream. What was that? “Hey, Robin! What's wrong? Was it a nightmare? You were sweating and mumbling when I came in here to wake you up…”

“Is... that what it was? Y-yes, it must have been…” Robin swallows, remembering Marth's desperate face. “I’m sorry, what brings you here, Lissa? Was there something you needed?”

Robin had hardly been able to sleep the night before, after spending many hours tossing and turning over his decision to tell Chrom how he felt.

“Frederick says it's time to march. And we can't save my sister without our master tactician!”

Robin smiles, wanly. He felt sick, and his arm started to throb again now that it was away from the infirmary. Maybe he should have just stayed in Ferox.

The Shepherds are positioned around the Plegian castle courtyard, under the disguise of being simple Plegian villagers. The outfits were given to them by the villagers they had rescued the day before.

“It's not much, but if the Ylisseans wanted to save us from our own we must repay them in the same favour.”

Robin had swapped his normal coat for plain darkred-coloured robes. It felt odd not having its bulk around his body, but quite refreshing given the heat.

The march had been awkward to organise. Chrom took one look at Robin before averting his eyes, hardly saying anything to the tactician that wasn't important. Breaking up into four small groups, the Shepherds were to march at different times towards the Plegian capital and to arrange themselves at each four corners. Some of the Shepherds would be in the crowd, preventing the Plegian army from having reinforcements.

Robin has placed himself into Chrom's group, given they would be on the frontlines, but walked over with Sully. Chrom looked too deep in thought to discuss strategy. She led her horse by its reins, dressed like a traveller with a headwrap. Their small team also consisted of Lissa, Frederick, Sumia, Flavia, an ever stoic Lon’qu and Nowi. Once they reach the walls of the Plegian capital, they blend in easily with the sheer amount of population that Plegia had.

Nowi was bouncing with each step: maybe she didn't quite understand what execution meant. The closer they got to the castle, the more Robin began to worry. He was extremely tired, and had large circles under his eyes and uncontrollable bedhead. With the desert castle now in view, he swallows, panic rising now.

“Hey.”

Chrom had fallen behind in order to walk next to Robin, and grips his arm. The tactician stiffens a little. He hadn't expected the blue-haired prince to speak to him at all, especially not this soon to rescuing his sister.

“Remember, no matter what happens, it'll all be okay.” Chrom squeezes his arm. His words are a little rushed. “We can do this, Robin. We know the plan, and if something goes wrong then so be it. You can get us out of there.”

Robin glances at the prince. He looks pained, but flashes a quick winning smile from underneath his hood. The tactician flushes red, and finds it odd to speak back so normally after last night's events. Perhaps Chrom had already forgotten it, and they could continue to be just friends. “I've already calculated a few ways this could go wrong. I just pray Flavia is as good an axe thrower as she says she is…”

Arriving at the castle courtyard, an open area with no walls, Robin's small group separate as Gangrel steps forwards from his 'stage'. “Good people! Warriors of Plegia! Welcome! Welcome, one and all!”

Many of the Plegian population had gathered. Some looked horrified, while others cackled or had bloodthirsty looks on their faces. “Your anticipation electrifies the air! We ALL remember the crimes of Ylisse... Would you have their witch-queen answer for them? Here? Today? NOW? YES! Finally, we will have JUSTICE!”

Gangrel points to the east, and Emmeryn is revealed. She's perched precariously on the edge of a cliff with her hands clasped in front of her. No shackles hold her, but an executioner with an axe stands behind her, as well as guards blocking her from running away. She will either have to fall to her death, or allow the axe to fall. Her normally serene face is stricken with worry.

“EXECUTIONER! If you would be so kind…” Gangrel laughs wickedly, giddy with excitement, and the executioner begins to raise his axe. It was now or never.

“Flavia!” Robin cries, turning to the warrior. She draws her throwable axe, squints, and then with great strength throws it long and hard.

“I've got him!” She says, and a smile draws on her face as the axe sinks into the executioners chest. He falls to his knees, keeling over on the ground.

“Everyone, now!” Robin and the others throw off their disguises, racing into battle mode and drawing weapons. The Plegian civilians scream, but the Shepherds in the crowd have already begun to direct them where to go in this panic. They wanted civilian casualties at a minimum.

The guards by the northern entrance race towards Chrom and Robin’s group, but Nowi has transformed and shoots them down with a slurry of her breath. Chrom sprints past her with Lissa close behind, finishing off an axeman that had missed the attack. Sumia throws the bags concealing her pegasus’ wings off, and takes off. Her priority was to try to reach the exalt, as well as Phila who was in group B, and Cordelia who was in group C. Archers shoot arrows towards the Pegasus Knight, and she ducks her pegasus in order to dodge them. The Plegians were prepared for such a tactic.

Phila is enraged at the sight of her exalt perched on the cliff. Khan Basilio's men had done their best to rescue the two, but when push came to shove only Phila could be saved. She would give anything to take Emmeryn's place, to have the exalt out of this situation.

“Take out all the soldiers first! We'll deal with the Mad King later!” Chrom battles fiercely with another swordsman, backing up before Robin takes him out with a blast of Thunder.

“Oh will you now? Bwa ha! We've been expecting you, Little Prince. Men! Kill him. Kill his sister. Kill his troops and his friends and anyone else you find! KILL THEM ALL!” His manical laughter echoes off the walls as he and his own tactician, Aversa, retreat behind a wall of her dark magic. They had the joy of meeting her when Gangrel had captured Maribelle from her estate.

Trudging through the sand after Chrom, Robin notes the pages of his tome running thin. Cursing, he pulls out his own sword issued to him. Robin wasn't much of a swordsman compared to his magic abilities, but it would have to do. Virion, from afar in the group towards the east, shoots down enemies that get a little too close to the prince.

Tharja watches the fight. “So we're to kill or die here, simply because the king demands it? Pfft. What do I care of these Ylisseans? We're given no reasons to fight, only orders. What's the point? Besides, I've always been quite good at choosing who to hate on my own…” Her eye catches Robin, and glint with manic.

A priest with an axe towards the southwest brings it down onto a Plegian soldier, his eyes closing swiftly to make a silent prayer. “Exalt Emmeryn! No! Gods speed me to her side!”

Chrom holds his position near the priest, raising his sword to deflect a soldier's dark magic. It rebounds off Falchion's blade. “You there! Who are you? Why do you fight alone?”

“Good heavens! You're Prince Chrom, brother to Her Grace the Exalt!” The priest covers his mouth with one hand, and does a quick bow.

“You know me?” Chrom looks the priest up and down, and then slashes at a swordsman who had gotten a little too close for comfort to Lissa.

“Know you? Of course, sire! All Ylissean clergy do. I must thank the gods for uniting us!” He clasps his hands in front of him and closes his eyes. Robin hastily runs in and parries a magical attack aimed at the priest. “Oh, dearest and most heavenly fa-”

“With all respect, now is not the time for prayer.” Chrom parries another blow. Frederick had now caught up was shouting about Wyverns in the north: Ricken and Virion spring into action. “It's action that's called for.”

“Ah, too true!” The priest opens his eyes, clutching his axe with both hands to run besides Chrom towards the courtyard. “We hurried here to help as soon as word came of the execution.”

“Alas, there were.” The blonde priest looks pained. “I lost many brave comrades along the way. In truth, I was starting to doubt the purpose of my struggle... But no longer! Pray, sire, let my axe serve you and your party!”

Chrom smiles, and looks up at Emmeryn who is watching the fight above. Her hands are covering her mouth, watching the Pegasus Knights attempt to reach her. There's hope. “Your love for my sister is clear. I would be honored to be joined by such a formidable woman of the cloth.”

As soon as the words left Chrom's mouth, Robin simply turned to stare at him. Woman. The priest was wearing priesthood robes, not clerical.

“...Man, sire. Man of the cloth.” The blonde haired priest looks pained.

“You're a… You're not a woman?” Chrom's smile falters, nearly missing the soldier he was parrying with. Gods, Chrom was bad when it came to genders.

“No sire, women are clerics. I am a priest. Well, technically a war monk, if you care to split hairs.” He kindly smiles, and Robin stifles a laugh. How could something so funny happen during a time like this?

Chrom falters a little. “Oh. Yes, well, I'm... I didn't mean to imply... Well, this is rather awkward.” In regards to their current situation, the Shepherds were obviously winning. One girl stood off to the side, biting her thumb nail. She hadn't used her tome the entire fight, both Robin and Chrom has noted. Perhaps it would be best to speak with her next.

“Oh, it's all right, sire.” Libra smiles, warmly. “You realized your mistake quickly enough. It could have been much more awkward... much more…”

“Right! Let's stop there.” Robin trudges past the two with his sword, allowing them to finish their conversation. “What is your name, priest?”

“My name is Libra,” he says, resting his axe on his shoulders.

Robin approaches the girl, dodging a blast of magic that whizzes over his head from one of her… allies? Vaike, in return, brings his axe down onto the attacking dark mage. Most of the Plegian army were either defeated or running away at this point. “Hey, there. Are you with the Plegians? You seem reluctant to fight.”

“Death comes to all of us eventually,” the dark haired girl says. She's scantily clad in gold and black armour. “Why invite it early, fighting for a cause I don't believe in?”

“So…” Robin lets her words sink in. What? “I should take that as a no, or..?”

“Let's just say I'm keeping my options open.” A smile begins to form on her face, an evil smile. “I mean, long live the king and all, but I'd like to keep living as well. And I have a bit of a rebellious streak, I'm afraid. A...dark side.”

Chrom has now joined the pair, and sheathes Falchion. “Then perhaps you would rebel now and fight for our cause?”

Tharja looks the prince up and down. “...You would trust me? What if this all just a ploy to plunge a dagger in your back?”

“My sister, the exalt: I think she would trust you. And I'm trying to learn from her. Besides, I already need to watch my back, whether you're with us or not.” He smiles kindly at the dark mage girl.

“Well, that's odd…” She taps her chin. “Usually when I bring up the backstabbing bit the discussion is over. All right, then: consider me your new ally… for now. My name is Tharja.”

“Robin!” Chrom is looking towards Emmeryn. “Their wyvern riders and archers have fallen! The skies are clear! I'm giving the signal!”

Phila is fast. Her pegasus soars in the air, headed towards Emmeryn, with a small selection of Pegasus Knights with her. Sumia and Cordelia stay near the ground level, ready to back them up if need be.

“Phila! I'm so glad to see you're safe!” Emmeryn cries out, watching her friend draw closer. “But how-”

“Khan Basilio's men freed me. Come, we must hurry!” She directs her pegasus towards the exalt.

“What?” Gangrel has returned, and looks to the field. His soldiers had either been defeated or escaped amidst the fighting. “How did they... That damned Ylissean tactician does not play fair!”

“Heh heh heh... Yes, well. Neither do I.” Aversa snaps her fingers, and a horde of Risen archer appear from the ground.

“Risen?!” Robin's blood turns cold. His brain falters for a second. “Oh gods, no! Chrom! There are Risen everywhere!”

“Damn! Not now!” Chrom draws Falchion again.

“Bwa ha ha! Oh, did an army of living corpses just appear out of the blue?! Truly, the heavens smile upon mighty King Gangrel this day! Bwa ha ha ha!” Gangrel’s cackling bounces off the walls of his castle as the archers fire a wave of arrows towards the knights.

Cordelia screams, about to race towards her captain to protect her, but Sumia firmly grabs her by the arm. The arrows hit their mark, landing in Phila’s pegasus, chest, leg and neck. She looks surprised, and her pegasus screams out in pain.

“Risen... How... Y-your Grace, I... Forgive me…” Her eyes roll back into her head as she falls off her pegasus, the two falling as both pegasus and knight.

Emmeryn drops to her knees. “Phila!”

“Exeunt one pegasus knight!” Gangrel's laugh increases in volume and intensity. “Watch how they fall, one by one!”

Robin watches on in mute horror as each Pegasus Knight is slaughtered by arrows. This hadn't been a part of the plan! “No no no…”

Lissa looks ready to faint from her position, her face white. Chrom’s voice falls to barely a whisper.

“We've lost…”

Gangrel stands proudly, holding his Levin sword. “I believe this is what they call a reversal of fortunes. Now... grovel before me. Plead! Beg for your worthless lives!”

Chrom’s expression hardens, along with the rest of the Shepherds. “I'd give up my life before I beg for it from you.”

“Oh, now that is a good line. A fitting epitaph for your tombstone, perhaps?” The Mad King struts forwards, boldly stepping into no man's land. “But it's not just your life in the balance. The exalt still stands upon the block. And I have a dozen bows trained on her. All it would take is one word from me…”

The Risen indeed do have their bows trained on Emmeryn, who has tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Emm! Hold on, I'm-”

“ARCHERS!” Gangrel barks, interrupting Chrom. “If this Ylissean pup so much as twitches, let fly your arrows!”

“I…” Chrom's grip on Falchion tightens. “I'll kill you!”

Aversa laughs at those words, alongside the Mad King.

“Go ahead! I welcome it. Just know you were responsible for Big Sister's bloody demise! And what of the rest of you? Eh? Who wants the honor of killing the exalt?” In response to his words, none of the Shepherds move, except to grip their weapons tighter. “No one? Bah! Your merry band isn't quite so headstrong anymore, is it? Pathetic!”

Chrom’s rage builds at those words. Robin had never seen him so angry. “Damn you!”

“Now, now, my boy: no one needs to die today. Not you. Not the exalt. Not your friends.” Gangrel's smile drops, and he becomes coldly serious. “Just lay down your sword and give me the Fire Emblem.”

Robin's heart accelerates at those words. Why was Gangrel so dead set on having the Fire Emblem? “Chrom! You can't trust him!”

“Of COURSE I can't trust him!” The words explode from the prince, and he shoots daggers at Robin. The tactician flinches, and feels hurt tears well behind his eyes. The prince immediately regrets his tone. “I'm not an idiot! But if I say no, he'll kill her! The gods are cruel, damn them! My sister or my duty... A problem with no right answer, yet I must choose!”

Robin’s voice cracks. “Chrom-”

“No, wait!”

Emmeryn's voice cuts through the courtyard, from where she is on the cliff. She's standing again now, hands clasped to her chest.

“SILENCE!” Gangrel bellows the words at her, but she ignores him. Chrom whispers out her name, watching his older sister.

“King Gangrel,” Emmeryn begins, her voice showing no weakness. “Is there no hope you will listen to reason?”

The Mad King splutters, hate filling his features. “You mean listen to more of your sanctimonious babble?! I think not. No, all I want is to hear a THUNK of arrows, and a SPLAT as you hit the ground. Take one, long, last look from your perch. You do so enjoy looking down on people... Then prepare to meet the ground, and your maker! That is, unless if someone were to give me the Emblem... NOW!”

Gangrel taps his foot impatiently. Suddenly, Chrom’s words cut through. “ALL RIGHT!”

He looks at Robin, at his Shepherds who are simply staring at him, and then to his sister. “All right... Emm, I know you won't approve, but this is my final decision. Maybe someday we'll face a crisis where maybe the Emblem would've helped. But I know for a fact that Ylisse needs you, today! The people need their exalt... And we need our sister. If those dark days should come, we'll face them together.”

Emmeryn’s eyes well with tears, but then her face hardens slightly. “Chrom... Th-Thank you. I know now what I must do…”

“Emm?!” Chrom watches in horror as she steps closer to the edge of the cliff. Even Gangrel and Aversa are busy staring at the exalt. “What are you-”

“Plegians! I ask that you hear the truth of my words! War will win you nothing but sadness and pain, both inside your borders and out. Free yourselves from this hatred! From this cycle of pain and vengeance. Do what you must... As I will do.” Her hands clasp together in a prayer position. “See now that one selfless act has the power to change the world!”

“Emm, no! No!” Without a second thought, Chrom is running towards her. Emmeryn simply watches, and then fixes her view onto the landscape. The sounds of the breeze in her ears, and the feeling it gently blowing her blonde curls back.

“No reaction... Was I wrong then?”

A bird soars above her, cutting through the sun. Her eyes follow it.

“Chrom... This is some torch I'm passing you…” She breathes in slowly, deeply, and closes her eyes to bow her head. A sad smile colours her face. “...So be it.”

She steps forwards once more, now on the very edge of the cliff, and Chrom quickens his pace. He raises a hand, hoping to stop her, to have her hesitate, to stop-

And then Emmeryn falls.

_Chrom…_

The prince cries out, his blood running cold.

_Lissa…_

The blonde princess falls to the ground, screaming for Emmeryn, and both Frederick and Lon’qu of all people lower themselves to help catch her.

_...And all my people._

The Shepherds watch in mute horror. Donnel grips the hem of his tunic so tight he might tear it. Nowi has tears streaming down her face, clutching Gaius’ sleeve. Panne seems stony, her hand tightening into a fist-

_Know that I loved you..._

Chrom's running slows to a halt, and he drops to his knees, his hand covering his face as he cries out. _“Emm!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this is taking forever to repost because I have to reformat it all. It'll slowly be all up to date on here!


	7. Chapter 7

Robin’s eyes shut, his blood turning to ice at seeing Emmeryn's body fall and Chrom's howl of pain. Gods!

“NOOOO!” Lissa's cries out, hyperventilation mixing with her sobs as she wails. Gangrel’s laughter cuts through them like a knife.

Chrom’s head snaps towards the Mad King, fury and hurt filling his features. “Damn you, Gangrel!”

“Bwa ha ha ha! Well now! How disgustingly noble... and so lovely a fall! Here I thought death to be an ugly thing.” Gangrel is gloating at Chrom, the archers now aiming towards their party and Chrom. “I've never seen one fall so gracefully, in fact… and I've seen many fall! Ah... So ends Emmeryn, Ylisse's most exalted! But how can we ensure everyone remembers this beautiful moment of her sacrifice? Perhaps we should gather up her body and put it on display! Bwa ha ha…”

Suddenly, Chrom has pulled Falchion from its sheathe, making a beeline towards the Plegian king. “ _Gangrel!_  You die today!”

“No, boy!” Basilio, emerging from the crowd, grasps Chrom's arm before he can get close enough to be skewered with arrows. “I secured an escape route! We have to flee!”

“B-But…” He reluctantly resheathes Falchion, Gangrel's uncontrollable cackles growing quieter as they disappear back into the castle. The Risen begin to slowly walk towards the group. “Her body... I have to…”

Basilio shoves the prince towards the remaining Shepherds, who are turning and running towards where Flavia is indicating. “You have to RUN! Now do it! Robin! Don't let him do anything stupid!”

Robin nods, grasping Chrom by the wrist, pulling him with him. The prince simply goes limp, allowing the tactician to lead him. Lissa, behind Frederick's shield, cries quietly into a disgusted Lon’qu’s chest.

Marth, from the right of the courtyard, in the shadows, shakes her head. Tears have formed in the corners of her eyes. “No! No... I'm too late... our bleak future is written once more... and darkness awaits us all.”

**O~O~O**

Rain had begun to fall as the Shepherd's hurry through a ravine. Tall pinnacles made from the bones of a fallen dragon shadow them as they run. Chrom was incredibly reluctant, looking back towards Plegia as they went, but Robin kept his hold on him to stop him from running back to Emmeryn. It hurt to just leave her, but there was nothing they could do.

“Hurry! There should be carriages waiting just through the ravine!” Basilio is trying to lead the progression. Some of the Shepherds had already gotten onto carriages earlier, on their way back to Ferox.

Chrom stays silent, before suddenly stopping. Robin, not as physically strong as Chrom, struggles against the prince’s decision to suddenly stand still. It's like trying to drag a stone statue.

“Chrom, please!’ Robin finally protests, and stops yanking on Chrom's arm.

“Rrgh... I'm... I'm coming…” A look of pain washes over his face.

“Quickly! We're almost... Huh? Damn!” Basilio’s attention lies on a duo of barbarians who intercept their straggling group, axes raised. “Plegians! I knew it couldn't be that easy... They're right in our way! We must fight!”

Robin's face hardens, but he draws his sword from the confines of his coat, dropping Chrom’s wrist. He seems distant, his hand resting on Falchion's hilt, watching as the Shepherd's draw weapons. Virion is holding both of Miriel’s hands in his own, speaking something to her.

The leader of the Plegian group approaches them. Mustafa is bald, with a long beard, and looks crestfallen. “Ylisseans! I offer you mercy. Surrender to me now and live!”

The khan's grip tightens on his axe. “Surrender? Sorry, I'm not familiar with the word.”

“Emmeryn would not have wished for this to come to bloodshed,” says the leader, his hand resting on the hilt of his axe.

“Don't speak her name!” Chrom snaps, drawing Falchion, suddenly very animated.

“Your rage is justified, Prince Chrom. But the meaning of your sister's final sacrifice was not lost on me. I suspect many Plegians who heard her final words would say the same. If you lay down your weapons, I vow to protect you as best I can.” Mustafa looks pained.

“How can we trust you after what your barbarous king has done?” Frederick is downcast, standing close to Sumia off his horse with his lance at his side. “I think we shall take our chances with weapons in hand!”

“I suspected you would say as much.” The axe man winces, but turns on the Shepherds towards a makeshift fort. “So be it, Prince Chrom. I shall endeavor to grant you a swift and dignified end.”

“Shepherds, to arms,” Robin weakly calls out, watching a murmur ripple through their remaining members as they draw weapons. Lissa sniffles. Gaius hums, biting a lollypop, a wistful look on his face.

Weapons are drawn, and a hesitant fight breaks out. About half of the axemen, wyvern riders and mercenaries hesitate before trying to hit the Shepherds, and so do the Shepherds in response. Nobody wanted to fight. Chrom is visibly upset, heading straight to the leader of the enemy with zero remorse. A bad sign. Robin calls out to the prince but he ignores his tactician.

Clashes break out among their ranks. Miriel shoots out balls of flames towards the Plegian’s, cutting a path for Robin to take after the prince. The rain makes the ground thick with mud, and he struggles through it, slipping a little in it.

One soldier had seen enough. He walks towards their leader. Mustafa is just standing there next to a tall pinnacle of the dragon's skeleton, not joining the fight whatsoever, even as his own men fall. It hurt him to do so. “Forgive me sir, but I… I no longer see the justice in hunting these people down. I accept any punishment you see fit, but after all that's happened… I just can't.”

A wyvern rider sneers at him, throwing an axe towards Lissa, who is hurriedly shielded by Frederick.

“How dare you question the general's orders! You know full well the punishment of insubordination is death!” He whips his head around to stare at the soldier, who clutches his lance closer.

“B-but, sir! These people are-” The soldier looks towards his leader, who is watching Chrom intently, calmly waiting for him to draw close.

“These questions are not ours to ponder, lad. The soldier does not judge. The soldier delivers judgment.” He looks to his soldier.

“Sir, I... I cannot raise my lance against them,” he says, slowly lowering his lance. “Even if... Even if it means death.”

“...You were there when Emmeryn spoke, weren't you?” Mustafa speaks slowly, looking the soldier in the eye. The man is young with messy hair, but seems determined. “So be it! Those of you unwilling to fight are dismissed!”

The soldiers eyes widen. “But I don't wish to abandon you, sir!”

“And I cannot defy the king, lad.” A pained look crosses Mustafa's face. “I know him well. He would murder my wife and child to set an example. I will accept the blame for your actions today. Now go!”

The soldier pauses, then suddenly stands straighter, and his voice is firm. “W-wait, General! I see a cause worth fighting for, one I believe in: loyalty to my general.”

He smiles at his soldier, and musses his hair. "Aye. That's a good lad.”

Chrom seethes closer, Robin struggling to catch up. The prince was truly on a mission. He ignores bolts of magic flying over his head, lances being thrust towards him, and steps aside from axes before parrying their attackers. Reinforcements had appeared on the Plegian side, resulting in the Shepherds being thrown into two hurried groups. It wouldn't be best for Chrom to be alone in a headspace like this.

Gaius watches the thieves loitering the battlefield. Amateurs. Had they any idea about how to be sneaky? Sumia soars above him, injuring one with her lance, and he smiles watching her do so.

Chrom finally approaches Mustafa, and Robin skids behind him as he tries to catch up. The general looks the prince in the eye, but Chrom ignores him.

“I am General Mustafa of Plegia. If you wish to keep your lives, then you must win them!” Mustafa draws his axe, but doesn't move otherwise. The cry rings out as Chrom stares him down. It's as if the rest of the battle had disappeared around the prince. He just wanted it to be over.

“Chrom!” Robin calls out, grasping his arm. “Stop! You need to stay away from the fight. You shouldn't after what just happened!”

Chrom pushes Robin and he falls backwards, slipping. His shoulder throbs as it tries to take weight.

“Stay out of this, Robin,” Chrom shoots back at him, anger filling his features, and he turns back to the general. Chrom was not coping with Emmeryn's death very well at all. Robin could see that, but his actions still hurt the tactician to his core. This whole fiasco, on top of what was said last night and his lack of sleep was really getting to him. Robin’s eyes sting with tears.

Chrom runs at the general, who deflects Falchion with his axe quickly. Most of their fight is from the prince’s anger filled attacks. Why did Emmeryn have to die? Did her words do no justice?

Mustafa simply continues to defend, but watches the battlefield around him. In his prime, he had been a warrior, a hero of Plegia. Now all he could do was send brave men to their deaths.

The general drops his weapon, and allows Chrom's blade to sweep across his chest and bury into him. Breathing in his last, he chokes out his last words.

“Well done, Ylisseans... Hrrggh! Please...spare my men…” Mustafa collapses on the ground, feeling the warmth leaving his body as a light seemed to get brighter. Then, he was gone.

Chrom stares down at him. Nothing. He felt nothing. No remorse, but no revelation. Killing this man wouldn't bring Emmeryn back.

He pulls Falchion back. The remorse hit him now, hard. He probably had a family that cared for him, as Emmeryn had. Chrom had killed before, but suddenly the realisation of taking a life crashed down around him.

Robin, sitting up, turns back to the battlefield to tell them it was over and to stop. The shepherds had already abandoned the fight when they saw the enemy leader fall. The straggling Plegian troops head back towards the city. It didn't feel like a victory.

“Khan Basilio!”

A pink haired girl runs onto the battlefield. She's dressed in light chiffon clothing, perfect for hot weather. Another Plegian?

“Olivia! I'm sorry we kept you waiting.” Basilio hurries to her.

“When I didn't hear from you, I thought... I assumed the worst.” A pained look crosses her face. Behind her, a line of horse drawn carriages await them.

“Shepherds! Meet Olivia. She'll be smuggling us out of here.” Their little group hurry to the carriages. Lissa, clutching her staff, is ushered into one with Gaius… and Kellam? He waves at the princess.

“Only if you hurry! Doubtless more of the Mad King's men are on their way.” The girl turns away from Basilio, readying the horses for a quick departure.

Robin shakily stands, sheathing his sword. “Chrom, we've gotta go.”

He seems to not hear Robin, still standing next to Mustafa's lifeless body. Falchion is glinting with red.

“Chrom!” Still no response. Robin grasps the man's arm. He knew Chrom didn't feel the same way the tactician felt about him, but Robin still loved him. The rain starts to pelt down harder. “We need to go! It's not safe... I'm sorry we couldn't save her!”

Chrom whips his head around to look at Robin. Tears are brimming at the corners of the prince’s eyes. Robin just feels anguish at the sight.

“Chrom…”

A flash of lightning cracks in the distance, and thunder rumbles behind it. Basilio is shouting to the two, and waving his arms wildly. Chrom seems to snap out of his stupor at the sound.

“Let's go,” Chrom mutters, and seems to turn to leave so Robin drops his arm.

But then, in an instant, the tactician feels Chrom's gloved hand brush his cheek. Robin's cheeks flush red under the contact, and rain drips heavily onto the pair.

“Chrom, what on earth are you-”

And then the prince’s lips are on his, and Robin’s eyes widen. Chrom was kissing him. It was awkward and Robin felt his nose ram against Chrom’s, and also he was completely unprepared and just awkwardly stood there. Had Chrom finally gone crazy?

As soon as it happened, it was over, and the prince looks away. A small smile laces his lips. “Thanks, Robin. For having my back through this mess.”

Chrom grasps Robin's wrist, and the two run towards the carriages.

Basilio, who had the luxury of watching this exchange, blinks at the two. Who would have thought? “Right. Pile in, you lot! And bid farewell to this Plegian hellhole.”

The pink haired girl is at the head of the carriages, reins drawn and ready. Sumia is riding her pegasus far above. “Ready? Hold on tight!”

Sitting next to Chrom, Basilio and Flavia, Robin's heart beats as fast as the Shepherd's make their escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these boys finally get their kiss in. I'm going to add more chapters tomorrow, but if you want to read the rest of what the story has look for Impossible on Fanfiction.net under my pseudonym telltalestars


	8. Chapter 8

The trip to Ferox was relatively long, but Robin's cheeks stayed pink the entire time. The day had truly been a rollercoaster of emotions for the tactician.

Chrom stays silent the entire trip, probably mulling over Emmeryn's death and the responsibility he now held, but when Robin catches his eye he smiles lightly at the tactician. The tactician flushes more red, turning to look out the window. Basilio says nothing about the gesture he saw, thankfully. Now probably wasn't the time.

The moment they reach Ferox, Chrom calls for a meeting in the mess hall. It's warm, and the light hum of soldiers dies down when they see the Shepherd's walk in.

Robin stands with Chrom, towards the front. He bites his lip, thinking over what happened in the past two days. He'd put aside his own bed rest to race after the Shepherds, and worked out a plan while sleep deprived. “All that... For nothing…”

Lissa sniffles. She'd spent the trip crying herself into a deep sleep apparently. The princess needed it, so nobody dared to wake her up until they arrived. “Emm... Oh, Emm…”

Frederick’s expression hardens, watching Chrom wrap an arm around his little sister. “I should have died before allowing the exalt to be captured. I have failed as a knight…”

Flavia, from her seat at one of the long tables, turns to her fellow Khan. “So what now, oaf?”

There was a lot to do. Ylisstol had to be repaired, a public statement must be declared about Emmeryn, the lords and ladies of Ylisse must be gathered to all agree upon the next exalt. Basilio waves his hands at Flavia. “Don't look to me! I'm not in charge!”

“Ugh…” Flavia rests her chin in her hand. “I picked a fine time to regain the full throne…”

Robin folds his arms, deep in thought. Despite all that happened, especially at the end of the fight against Mustafa, the heavy feeling of guilt had settled over him.

“Chrom, I'm... I'm so sorry. My plan just wasn't enough.” He winces. Maybe if he had slept a little better, and had been less self-centred the night before…

“You did your best, Robin. You have my thanks.” Releasing Lissa, he pats Robin's shoulder, but his expression hardens. “It's my own failures that haunt me now. Gods, I was just so powerless!”

“It's not your fault either, Chrom.” Robin gently reminds the prince, remembering his anger during the last fight.

“She did it for me, Robin. So that I wouldn't have to live with the guilt of either choice, she chose for me.” Chrom sits at a long bench, heavily. “She sacrificed herself rather than give up what could one day save her people…”

“Chrom... Listen to me. Look at me.” Robin sits next to the prince. He feels warm at how close the two are. After a few seconds, Chrom’s blue eyes travel upwards to meet his grey ones. A warm feeling of love blossoms in the tactician's chest. Robin remembers the kiss, and his eyes dart away.

“I was powerless once, too, remember?” The tactician speaks slowly, resting his fingertips together. “And yes, alone, I don't think either one of us is half the person your sister was. But together… maybe we can be something more.”

Robin swallows, slightly embarrassed to be saying this in front of the others. “If you fall, I'll be there to pull you back up. When you fight for your sister's ideals, I'll be by your side. You don't have to become your sister, you know. You can still be true to yourself. You just have to give people hope in whatever way you can.”

“And what if I can't? What if I'm not worthy of her ideals?” Chrom runs a hand through his blue hair. “Robin, what if I drag you down with me?”

“If you aren't worthy, you'll keep at it until you are.” Robin coaxes the prince, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And if we both fall down, well, that's what friends are for, isn't it? To support one another, through thick and thin.”

“That's right. I wouldn't be even here if not for you!” Nowi pipes up, bouncing on her seat.

“You gave me your trust and now you have mine…” Tharja is sitting away from the group, but close enough to hear what they say. “For the time being.”

“Were you unworthy, I would have left long ago.” Lon’qu mutters the words, then looks towards the princess. A soft spot had developed in him for her. Maybe not…

“It took great courage and charisma to unite all of us…” Virion murmurs, winking. “I knew I possessed such talents, but clearly you do as well!”

“Yeah. We all look up to you! You're like a hero to us.” Ricken grins, dwarfed by the size of his hat.

“Thank you, everyone. Your words mean more than you could know.” Chrom smiles, softly. “My Shepherds... My warriors... There is work to be done. Gangrel must be stopped so that peace can once again reign in Ylisse. Will you help me?”

“You can count me in!” Lissa grins at her brother, then at Robin. Her eyes are puffy, but shining. “I'm tired of crying all the time! It's time to start punchin' stuff!”

“Hear, hear, darling! Our people have suffered enough.” Maribelle smiles, sitting with her legs crossed neatly next to Gregor.

“Gladly would I fight and die for House Ylisse!” Stahl is already eating again, wolfing down some bread.

Sully punches him on the shoulder, laughing. “Gladly would I fight and KILL those dastards for House Ylisse!”

“Our hearts echo yours, sire.” Libra smiles serenely.

“I will be the the unbreakable shield by your side!” Sumia tries to stand up from her seat to prove her point, but topples forwards and faceplants it instead.

“I'm with you, too! You know. Just in case anyone… Hello?” Kellam waves his arms, but nobody seems to hear him.

“Teach is here and class is in session!” Vaike winks.

“How much you pay Gregor?” Says Gregor. The Shepherds take a moment to stare at the swordsman, who then guffaws. “Gregor make joke! Why you look at Gregor like that?”

Panne folds her hands in her lap, bowing her head slightly. “Your sister earned my respect. The last taguel shall champion her.”

“You have grown strong, milord.” Frederick muses. “I may have set a poor example as a knight... but I swear to you, I shall die before any more exalted blood is spilled!”

Chrom's smile widens with each of their words, and he rests his hand on Robin's shoulder. “Thank you all. Truly. You honor me with your fealty. I will not falter again. We shall answer this outrage! The Mad King must be stopped!”

“Right!” Flavia jumps to her feet, raring to go. “It's time for ol' Gangrel to get a dose of his own vulnerary! The whole of the Feroxi army is yours to send crashing against him!”

Basilio laughs. “You young folk: your passions run so hot! If I had any gray hairs, you would've singed 'em right off. In other words, count me in!”

The new girl, Olivia, pipes up. “I'd like to go too, if I may. The exalt did me a kindness once.”

“She did?” Chrom asks, widening his eyes slightly at the pink-haired girl. She squeaks, and her cheeks turn pink.

“Y-yes, sire. It would honor me to have a part in giving her justice! Although all I can do is dance... And I'm not so skilled at that, if we're being honest…”

Basilio laughs, and claps the dancer on the shoulder. “She's too modest! Olivia is a Feroxi treasure. You won't meet a finer dancer in all the realms! Her moves inspire soldiers to work twice as hard! You'll do well to bring her along, Commander.”

“‘Commander’?” Chrom questions, smiling. “What happened to 'boy’?”

Basilio winks. “You've earned your way up from that name, I think. Now, where were we? Oh yes! I was just about to start cracking skulls! Flavia will lead me and the other Feroxi in a head-on assault on Plegia. That should buy you enough time to take down Gangrel. Hear that, boy! You get the fun part!”

“I thought you weren't going to call me-”

“You and Robin have my every confidence.” Basilio interrupts. The older warrior smiles, fondly. “You're a born leader, and he has a knack of guiding troops to victory. You both have some growing to do yet, but I can already see you'll grow tall.”

Robin flushes with pride. Chrom squeezes his shoulder, before letting Robin go. “Thanks, Basilio,” the prince says.

“All right, enough talk.” Basilio stands, and stands with Flavia. “It's time to raise some hell! Gangrel may try to hit us while we're still licking our wounds.”

Chrom rests his hand on Falchion. “Let him try. This time, I'm ready to dethrone the Mad King, once and for all.”

**O~O~O**

Many preparations had to made for the attack on Plegia, and quickly.

Robin quickly recollects his belongings, in the tiny room he was being lent at Ferox for the time being. He'd need a new tome before the march, and they needed to make sure the horses were well rested before leading them to battle…

There's a quick knock on the door, and Chrom lets himself in. “Hey, Robin. Need anything before we go? I've just sent a letter to the lords and ladies of Ylisse regarding our plan.”

The tactician blushes at Chrom being so close, but nods. “Yes. I need a new tome, probably a couple vulneries to take for whoever is injured but needs to come with us…” The list went on, Robin’s words becoming mutters and he sits on his bed, scribbling notes down into a small journal.

“I'll send people to the armory, then,” Chrom says, smiling. “You seem quite busy. Any ideas yet for a plan?”

Robin nods. “I'll talk you through it while we march. I've no idea what we're to expect from the Mad King, but I'm sure he will be hiding behind his own troops…”

Chrom sits next to him, and Robin tenses slightly. The prince wraps an arm around the tactician's shoulders.

“Hey, um, also,” Chrom says quietly, his eyes not meeting Robin's. “Probably not the best timing, given we're just about to march, but I apologize if I came on a little strong at the midmire. There were a lot of emotions running through me during that time, and I hope you know that those feelings were, uh-”

The prince swallows, and his cheeks grow crimson. An awkward silence falls on the two. Those feelings were what? Not genuine? Not directed at the tactician? How could they be? Robin feels slightly sick at the idea of it ending with those words, but it had to be true. The tactician was male. Chrom wasn't as stupid as Robin to fall for another man, especially given that he was soon to be exalt.

“It's fine,” Robin mumbles. “I'm sorry I told you my own feelings the night before we tried to rescue Emm… I'm so sorry that the rescue ended the way it did…”

Chrom pulls Robin into his shoulder, holding him close, and Robin rests his head on it. Gods, what was the tactician to do? Chrom was so kind, and warm, and handsome. He couldn't ever stop these feelings he had for the prince.

“I’ve… grown a bit of a soft spot for you,” Chrom says, laughing a little, and Robin stiffens. “Even before we went to Plegia… when you took an arrow for me the way you did, I knew that couldn't have just been out of friendship. You watch me like a hawk. Had it been Vaike or another, you probably wouldn't have made such a mad dash to almost kill yourself.”

Chrom removes one of his gloves so that he can run his fingers through Robin's fluffy white hair, and Robin wraps his arms around the prince's waist. “Almost losing you… scared me. Not just for the Shepherds sake, but for my own selfish sake. I beat myself a little over these feelings… is it right for an exalt to be with another man? But Emmeryn would have simply smiled, so long as I was happy she would have been certain the kingdom would also be…”

Robin swallows. So what was Chrom saying? That kissing him at the midmire, that had been genuine? Robin looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Chrom. Are you trying to say what I think you are?”

Chrom’s blush grows. “Y-Yeah.”

The prince releases his tactician, but then strokes Robin's cheek with his thumb. “Um, this is probably a bit strange to ask right now given the circumstances, but I didn't ask last time so maybe it's best I do from now on…”

Robin raises an eyebrow again. His cheeks have turned crimson at this turn of events, matching Chrom's own. Perhaps the tactician was dreaming.

“Robin, can I kiss you again? Properly.” Chrom’s voice doesn't shake or hesitate even once. He's firm in his choice.

Robin nods. “Yes.” His voice has fallen to a whisper, and Chrom grasps his chin. Looking at the prince in the eye, he thought he would feel embarrassed but Robin instead feels almost content. They both felt the same, why would it be so embarrassing?

But as Chrom’s lips met his own, and as Robin's eyes shut, he knew why it was embarrassing. It was wrong, first and foremost, for a tactician to be like this with his commander. Secondly, it was wrong for a future exalt to be like this with a lowly commoner with no history to his own name. Choosing someone who had potentially come from Plegia, with a strange mark on their hand, would not sit well with the kingdom.

Robin feels these crash on him, even as Chrom wraps his arms around the tactician to draw him closer, and Robin's own around his neck. Turning his head slightly to the side, Chrom deepens the kiss, and Robin’s lips part.

Thirdly, they were both men. It wasn't uncommon for both men and women to date and marry the same gender as their own, but it would never be fully accepted. Only with Emmeryn's reign, as Robin had heard once he realised how he truly felt for Chrom, did this become a legal option for the people of Ylisse. In Ferox, it had been for over two hundred years. In some parts of the world, it still was illegal for same gender people to marry. Would the kingdom truly be so open if they ended up taking their relationship that far? Perhaps Robin was overthinking this. The sting of tears appear, and he tries to ignore it by burying a hand into Chrom's hair.

Yet, Robin's mind kept throwing horrible thoughts at the man. If they truly were to stay together, to marry, then ultimately Chrom would be unable to naturally have an heir. An heir that was needed for the throne, especially if Lissa ultimately was unable to have one herself. Robin could be the end to Chrom's family bloodline. That one hit hard, and Robin suddenly pulls back, breaking the kiss. The tears begin to pool and streak down his cheeks, and Robin covers his face with his hands.

“What's wrong?” Chrom asks, worried at seeing Robin suddenly hide away. The tactician sobs a little, and Chrom wraps his arms around him.

“I don't know what you're thinking about, but it will all be okay Robin.” Chrom smiles, and Robin turns to cry into his chest. The prince’s arms wrap around him, holding him close.

But would it really be okay?


	9. Chapter 9

The march to Plegia was faster than expected. Robin, rather than fall behind Chrom, stood tall next to the prince to discuss strategy. There was almost an overconfident air around Robin, with him bouncing on his feet. The rest of the Shepherds had their heads held high with high spirits, laughter rippling through them occasionally. It was like marching back in the good old days when it was only to break up a Risen camp or two.

Flavia and Basilio had left earlier than the Shepherds to rally their own remaining troops, and take them to a field in Plegia and keep them there. The plan was to keep the remaining Plegian soldiers busy so that Chrom had a good chance at just taking Gangrel out on his own, far enough away from the castle so that the Mad King would be drawn into the fight.

Frederick approaches the pair. He’d been ahead with their scouts, but had now fallen behind. “Milord, I've a report from Khan Flavia. The Plegian army is in disarray.”

“How do you mean?” Chrom raises an eyebrow. The fight at the Midmire had certainly seemed off, given that no one seemed to want to fight. Was this affecting all of the Plegian army?

Frederick is beaming. “It seems many of their soldiers are opposed to further violence. There has been infighting, desertion... Gangrel is trying to stamp out the mutiny by force, but with little success. Outside of a few faithful who serve him directly, his army has all but collapsed.”

“This is incredible news. But why?” Chrom looks to Robin, thinking, and then it dawns on the prince. “Emmeryn…”

“Yes, milord. Emmeryn.” Frederick looks to the sky. Their exalt was with the gods now. “The report says Gangrel's men chant her name as they abandon the field. Her words, and her sacrifice, have made her a folk hero of sorts.”

“Emmeryn…” Chrom looks downwards, mulling over his thoughts. “Why did it take me so long to understand? She believed all people desire peace. She knew, deep down, that the Plegians wanted it too. It just took her giving away her life to bring it to the surface.”

Chrom’s brow furrows, and Robin bites his lip. The prince truly had quite the torch to carry now. He would want to continue building Ylisse with Emmeryn's ideals once he became exalt.

The prince catches the tactician's eye, and smiles. “I hope she can see this, wherever she is... Today, we put an end to Mad King Gangrel and bring peace back to the land.”

**O~O~O**

Plegia knew they were coming.

Upon approaching the barren no man's land called Border Wastes, it's clear the remaining Plegian army had grown much smaller. Gangrel stands behind his troops, alongside Aversa, his tactician. He's smiling, but seems almost pained to.

“Good day, my little princeling! Still dreaming of your squashed sister?” He cackles. Some members of the army cringe at their king’s words, but don't move from their positions.

“No more talk, Gangrel.” Chrom is firm, with Falchion drawn. It glints under the afternoon sun. “Today, you die, and peace returns to Ylisse and Plegia.”

“Pah! Such hypocrisy! You despise me, wretch!” Gangrel's sinister smile curls into a snarl. “You want to cut me down! You don't know the first thing about peace! No man does!”

Robin tenses at the words. Was Chrom truly strong enough right now to fight even these words?

“I know more than you ever will,” the prince answers simply. His voice is void of any hidden emotion.

“More than me? More than ME?!” Gangrel laughs again, and Aversa joins him. “You ARE me! When life asks you a question, you answer with blood!”

“Maybe you're right... I will never be my sister.” Robin flinches when he feels Chrom's free hand rest on his shoulder. “I cannot forgive men like you… men who sow nothing but evil. All I have left are her words and her memory. Were I alone, I would be driven to madness… Or worse. But I'm not alone. My friends and brothers-in-arms stand behind me.”

As if on cue, the Shepherds draw their weapons. Lissa grasps her staff, grinning at her brother's words.

“Are you done? May I vomit now? Bwa ha ha! What a flowery harangue! Men are beasts! Nothing more! We fight! We kill! We devour our prey! Beasts do not stand behind beasts, little prince…” Gangrel seems to be grasping at straws. “They use each other only so long as it suits their own selfish purpose!”

Chrom smirks. “Perhaps this explains why your own soldiers refuse to stand behind you? You are a poison. A festering wound. And I will do what my sister could not.”

Gangrel scowls. “Such a clever tongue you have, little prince... It will look quite fetching hanging on my mantle, next to your sister's corpse!”

Aversa backs away from the Mad King. She's armed with a dark tome. She hadn't expected a fight to break out here. Should she call for more Risen? Gangrel’s rage grows as he draws his Levin sword, pointing at their small band, and he barks for the Plegian army to charge.

Olivia runs onto the battlefield, a sword made of iron at her hip. “Milord, I have come! Am I too late? I don't claim my dance as anything special, but Khan Basilio says it renews the spirit!”

The Shepherds clash with the Plegians once more. Cordelia soars above them, driving her lance into soldiers. Prince Chrom had to notice her now! She turns back, smirking, but it quickly drops when she sees Chrom not even looking at her, instead fighting alongside Robin. There was something odd between the two, with the way the two fought beside each other. Her brow creases.

“Cordelia, watch out!”

Frederick hurls his lance at an archer who had his bow locked onto the Pegasus Knight. She blinks. Her complacency had almost allowed for her to get skewered like Robin had been. Dragging her eyes from the prince, she returns to the fight, flying her pegasus low above the dirt.

Tharja scowls, sending bolts of Nosferatu into the Plegian army and knocking them aside like bowling pins. This entire time, someone so filled with darkness had just ignored her! The tactician had his back turned to her, blasting out magic from his new Elthunder tome. The whole reason why she joined this silly group was because of Robin.

Chrom slashes down an axeman, pushing Robin out of the way of a magic attack with his free arm. The Plegian army was dwindling. He'd hoped for this to have led to less bloodshed, but given that Gangrel was hiding behind his troops like the child he was it was near impossible.

“You alright?” He asks Robin, deflecting an attack from another axe.

The tactician nods, scanning for an opening. Gangrel simply stood back, holding his Levin sword, screaming out commands. When it came to a real fight, Gangrel hadn't much experience. The trickster was mainly good with fast, one person attacks, not with large-scale fights involving whole armies.

If Miriel could set fire to the fields between Gangrel and the Plegian army… she had been aiming towards the more sandy parts of the field in order to prevent it from happening. She and Virion, as Robin had noted, has grown immensely close as of late. The archer stayed close to the mage, neatly shooting off arrows towards Plegians who got a little too close to her.

“Miriel!” Robin calls, and points to the slight gap. “On my signal, send some flames towards this area and set the grass on fire!”

The mage pushes her glasses up her nose. Of course. Robin was no less than a genius. Gangrel was a good distance away from the Plegian army and his tactician. Trapping him behind a wall of flames with Chrom would bring an end to this fight quickly.

“Chrom, forwards!” Robin hurls a bolt of Elthunder into a soldiers face, pulling him into a beeline towards the Mad King. Gangrel yelps, stumbling backwards when he sees Robin and Chrom race for him suddenly. Aversa furrows her brow. Obviously they expected their deaths, being in the centre of the Plegian army-

Hot flames erupt in the long blades of grass behind them, cutting Gangrel off from her and the soldiers. Avera’s eyes widen. She was such a fool! Miriel smirks, repositioning her glasses again.

The Mad King grips his sword closer, and hisses at the prince. “Come, princeling! I've sharpened my sword just for you!”

“My sister wished for our people to know peace, Gangrel,” Chrom says, Falchion held in front of him. He's resolute in his decision. Robin raises his tome besides him. “But as long as you draw breath, it can never come. For Ylisse!”

Gangrel sneers, and raises his Levin sword to shoot a bolt of lightning towards the pair. They split up, Robin jumping to the left. In return, he throws some of his own lightning to the Mad King. Gangrel dodges it, laughing manically at Robin's attempt. Chrom raises Falchion high over his head from the right and brings it down, suddenly plunging it into the Mad King’s chest. His laugh suddenly stops, and he gurgles.

“F-fool of...a prince…” Gangrel falls to his knees, bleeding out onto the field below. The blood reflects the flames. “Your people care not for you... You are… alone... As every man lives and dies… alone…”

And thus, the battle was finished. The war was over. Aversa screeches out in rage, but disappears from the battlefield, abandoning her remaining troops.

Frederick trots his horse up to the pair. “Milord, the remaining Plegian forces are surrendering en masse!” Nowi was doing her best to flap sand onto the flames to stop them from spreading, and Chrom resheathes a bloodied Falchion. Gangrel's broken body lay on the ground, and the Shepherds didn't dare look at it again. At least they respected the body of a dead enemy, leaving it for a member of the Plegian army to gather for burial.

“Order our forces to cease fighting at once. Send a scout to Flavia and Basilio’s group.” Chrom turns his back on Gangrel, and breathes out. Frederick salutes, charging his horse away from the group.

The war… was over. Robin blinks.

Chrom turns to Robin, and laughs, wrapping an arm around the tactician's shoulders. “It's over."

**O~O~O**

Back in Ferox, the Shepherds could finally rest. Flavia is sitting deep in a fuzzy chair, in the small sitting room they had for such a situation. She's joined by Basilio, Chrom, Robin. Lissa had declined their invitation, saying she just wanted to sleep before the march back to Ylisse. “Then it's finished. Once our messenger delivers our terms, that's it. We put an end to this bloody business, once and for all.”

“We've won…” Chrom himself is sitting deep on a sofa next to Robin. “Somehow I don't feel like celebrating.”

Basilio would have normally cracked open the mead by now, but wanted to wait for their return to Ylisse first. “Victory can be bitter as well as sweet, boy. It's good you learn that now.”

“Regna Ferox lost many good soldiers today,” Flavia muses. “We need to see to our dead. Then it's time to attend to the living and rebuild our army.”

The prince winces. “I'm sorry, Flavia. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten. Ylisse will compensate your nation in whatever fashion-”

“Oh? In that case, how about you hand over the Fire Emblem and we'll call it even?” She looks deadly serious for a total of two seconds, before bursting into laughter. “Just a little Feroxi humor. Don't worry about our finances, Chrom. Reparations will fall to Plegia, and I've seen their treasury. They can well afford it.”

Basilio barks out his own laugh. “Yes, pity the man who stands between Flavia and a full coffer, boy.”

“Heh, I'll have to remember that when you come to visit Ylisstol,” Chrom says, leaning forwards and smiling.

**O~O~O**

There was much to be done once Chrom was back in Ylisse. As soon as he entered the palace, the staff solemnly bowed to their prince and princess, before erupting into a mix of happy cries and sad tears. The capital still mourned their exalt, but many preparations had to be made to crown their new one.

Being back in his old room with Stahl made Robin smile. He'd only been away from it for a few weeks, but he still missed it's familiar scent and mess.

“Ugh, I need a nap,” the cavalier complains, collapsing onto his bed. “And some dinner. Do you think we'll have anything special since, y’know, we're kind of war heroes and all that?”

Indeed, a celebration was to be had. The kitchen staff really put on a spread: soups, breads, meats (even bear!) and sandwiches were laid on tables outside under the warm afternoon sun. A young man with a lyre had begun to play. Strange, his hair colour almost reminded Robin of one of the Shepherds...

Basilio had sent the Ylissean army home with a parting gift: barrels of mead for them to share. Gregor wasted no time tapping one and sharing it amongst the Shepherds, laughing heartily.

“For you, boy, two! Grow big and strong like Gregor.” A flustered Ricken takes the two tankards given to him, but they're quickly confiscated by Frederick. Nowi, behind her own tankard, giggles at the commotion.

“Aw, how come you get some, Nowi?” Ricken asks, sour. “You look way younger than me.”

The manakete taps her chin. “Well, actually-”

Virion suddenly steps onto a table, brandishing his own tankard amidst the chatter. “May I have your attention, my lovely Shepherds?”

Miriel's cheeks are pink at the sight, and grow as red as her hair as he grasps her hand.

“My dear Miriel and I have some news… a lot of you may have been expecting this, others not-”

“Get on with it already!” Vaike shouts, his mouth stuffed with meat.

“-but regardless it is a long tale and to make it short, we're getting married.” He smiles wider, and after a slightly stunned silence the Shepherds erupt into cheers and rounds of applause for the pair.

Robin, from his seat next to Chrom, wonders if he heard that right. The mead was making his head go fuzzy. Married? He hadn't expected any of the Shepherds to marry each other, let alone Virion, but he was happy for the two. The archer is beaming besides Miriel, and there is indeed a silver ring on her finger.

“Well, look at that. Things are already looking up.” Chrom smiles at Robin, drinking his own drink. The sun was beginning to dip, and the lull of conversation continues around them. Lissa had disappeared to go dance with Maribelle, and the two are laughing. Robin watches them fondly.

“Robin, I wanted to talk with you before in Ferox but I felt there wasn't enough privacy…” Chrom looks to the sky. “Will you meet me in the back garden in about fifteen minutes?”

The tactician nods, and Chrom shifts to get up. Robin watches the prince join Stahl and Panne’s conversation, smiling and sliding in so easily. For Chrom, leading the Shepherds came easy. Robin wished he could fit in just as well.

After about ten minutes, Robin finishes his tankard and slips past the crowd to the gardens. His vision is a little teetered, and he giggles as he feels himself stumble a little. Maybe the tactician had had a little too much to drink.

Chrom’s waiting for him, and he smiles at Robin, grasping his arms to help hold him up. “Easy. Maybe you've had a little too much to drink for this conversation.”

Robin giggles. He felt fuzzy, and leans into Chrom's chest. It felt nice to finally do it. The two had an unspoken rule about interacting in public, and hugging was not on the list. “We just won a war. I'm pretty sure I can handle talking to you.”

Chrom’s smile slowly drops. “Robin…”

“What's wrong, Chrom? You look so serious.” Robin quirks a white eyebrow.

“I… I think I owe you an apology,” Chrom says, resting his hand in Robin’s hair. The pressure felt nice. “This wasn't your war to fight.”

“But I chose to fight it,” Robin says pointedly. He could have just left at any moment, but instead the tactician had stayed by Chrom’s side. The moment they met, Robin knew he wouldn't be able to just simply leave.

Chrom releases Robin, but takes his hand. “All I've been thinking about is stopping Gangrel, no matter the cost. Even my own life would not have been too high a price to pay.”

Robin's grey eyes narrow. The white-haired man would rather sacrifice himself than let Chrom die before him. He'd already nearly done that once. “It would have been for us! And for me.”

“I've been thinking a lot lately, about everything. And about you, Robin.” Chrom looks into his eyes. The blue feels so hypnotizing. “In many ways, you're the best mage I've ever known… and my best friend. You are a special person to me, as you already know…”

“You know that you're dear to my heart…” Robin murmurs, and squeezes the prince's larger hand. What was the prince trying to say? “But, Chrom, isn't this incorrect? I'm… a man.”

Chrom smiles. “Well, yes, obviously. Unless you've been like Libra this whole time. Looks truly can be deceiving…”

Robin laughs. That whole situation had been hilarious, and would be burned into his memory forever.

“I don't know what the future holds, Robin, but now that the war is over it's our chance to try to be together.” Chrom clasps his hands in his. “We can make this work. If we both love one another, then who is to stop us?”

Love… Robin's cheeks flush bright red. Maybe Chrom was also a little bit drunk from the mead.

“I'm unsure about the others knowing just yet,” Robin muses. It would be a shock, and Robin had only recently been properly accepted into the Shepherds. “But of course I want to try.”

Chrom grins, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He kisses the tactician's forehead.

“Thank you, Robin. You are the wind at my back, and the sword at my side. Together, my love, we shall build a peaceful world, just you and me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned friends! Now that the war is over, it's time for Ylisstol to rebuild


	10. Chapter 10

Now that the war was over, Ylisstol was able to rebuild and, for the first time in a while, actually relax and go about their business as normal. Marketplaces and stores reopened, and the citizens were happy.

Everytime Robin walked through its streets, whether to buy something new or just to explore, there was an excited buzz to the air. Chrom's coronation date had finally been organised, and was due to happen next week. He was constantly being whisked away for meetings about the public, fittings, and general discussions with the newly appointed Hierarch. Lissa was just as busy.

“Robin, don't you think this one is pretty?”

Lissa had dragged him to a small tailors shop, insisting that he of all people come with her. Most of the Shepherds were busy with training or their own private duties, but Robin would only ever study books or practice strategy with games of chess. Even Maribelle, Lissa's dearest friend, hadn't been around to accompany her while she chose a dress to wear for the coronation. The noble girl had been home for the week leading up to the big event, presumably to see her parents.

Lissa was wearing a yellow dress similar to her normal one, but it was covered in bows and ribbons galore. Robin creases his brow from his seat.

“Er, I don't think I was the best choice for helping you choose a dress-”

Lissa ignores him, looking in the mirror and tapping her chin. “I think it's a little too, uh, princess-y for me. Maybe the blue one...”

She ducks into her fitting room again. Robin smiles. “There's nothing wrong with wearing something pretty, fit for a princess.”

Lissa had always been kind to Robin, but now that the war was over she was even more so. Had Chrom mentioned anything about their relationship? The two had decided to keep it quiet, especially with all that was currently happening. Chrom had been so busy that the pair had hardly any time together. It made the tactician miss him greatly.

“Yeah, but I'm not delicate! I want something pretty and suave and graceful, something like what Emm would have worn.” Robin can hear the pout in her voice, and he smiles. “You'd better find something nice too, mister. I bet you don't even have a nice tie.”

The princess had a point. Robin only really had his coat and a selection of old shirts and pants to choose from. He winces at the designs for menswear on the racks. They all seemed tight fitting and uncomfortable.

“I'm sure it won't matter too much what I wear to his coronation,” Robin points out, and Lissa pokes her head out, a determined look on her face.

“Ylisse’s tactician had better look smart! What if Chrom makes a public speech?” She disappears again, and Robin cringes at the thought. A public speech? Chrom was brave to be able to do something like that.

“You do have a point…”

The two spent the rest of the day going between stores. Robin found a neat shirt made from cotton that he could wear to the ceremony, as well as some brand new black pants. Lissa finally settled on a plain white dress. On their way back to the castle, Lissa's pace slows down a tad.

“There was one reason why I dragged you here today,” she muses, a tiny blush on her cheeks. “I need your advice, and I don't know if any of the other guys would be okay with me talking to them about it! I was gonna ask Frederick, but, well, we both know what he's like…”

Robin quirks an eyebrow. The sun was beginning to sink, and the street they were walking down had quietened. “Er, okay. What makes you think talking to me is easier?”

She shrugs, pressing her fingertips together. “I dunno, but I feel like you'd be less weird about it. Um…”

The princess looks quite flustered. “So there's this guy, and he's super cute, and always protecting me in battle because he was supposed to… but, um, now that he's not really supposed to be guarding me I hardly see him anymore and I'm unsure of what to do. If anything, he seems to be ignoring me!”

Robin wasn't a fool. He knew that Lissa, for some time, had Lon'qu as her bodyguard during the war for when she went shopping and the like. Now that it was over, there was no real need for him to do such a thing.

“I'm sure he has his own reasons for ignoring you, Lissa.” The two were slowly approaching the walls of Castle Ylisse. Robin understood exactly how Lissa felt. He was in the same boat. “Maybe try dropping past where he normally hangs out? Perhaps this man you speak of is just busy. If anything, talking to him about it might be a good idea.”

She thinks about that. “True, that could be what's happened… thanks, Robin! I'll go see if he's at the training grounds right now!”

Lissa thrusts her shopping bags into Robin's arms, and he protests at the sudden weight. Where was he supposed to take these?

He could take them to her room… it was close to Chrom's. Maybe he should do the same. Robin hadn't been in Chrom's bedroom as of yet, and tried not to intrude on the prince’s personal space like how Chrom seemed to enjoy doing.

Then again, was he even allowed to? Robin had only ever seen staff go up to that wing of the castle. Maybe if he ran into a staff member on the way he could pass on Lissa's shopping.

Walking through the castle’s main entrance, he shivers at how large it's interior is. Normally, he would have gone straight to his room in the barracks or through the back entrance… going through the main hall felt nerve racking.

He trots up the steps. It was nice and quiet as the sun set, now that the day was over. Most of the staff had gone to their own rooms, or homes. Robin walks along the long corridor. He faintly remembered from his initial tour where everything was. It's void of staff.

Robin passes a few rooms he knew to be empty. One had belonged to Chrom's parents. Another, to Emmeryn. He feels pained passing her door that's painted with green embellishments. Her death still hit the tactician hard.

At the halls turn, he's at Lissa's room. Her door is plain looking with just her name on it, and he carefully opens the door just enough to slide the package of her shopping onto the floor. Robin didn't dare look inside for too long, but got a glimpse of a very pink bed and a lot of stuffed animals.

Chrom’s bedroom was at the very end of the hall. Robin swallows, seeing that his door is shut, and nervously knocks and waits. He probably wasn't even there-

Chrom opens the door, slightly confused. He's dressed in much more relaxed clothes. Pyjamas? They seemed still very formal. “Who on earth knocks without coming in?”

The prince looks down, and sees a nervous Robin. A smile flits onto the blue-haired man’s face. “Ah, I see. Hello, Robin. Come in.”

Chrom widens the door, just enough for the tactician to slip inside before shutting it. Robin steps closer to his lover(?) and throws his arms around the prince's chest, burying himself in it. “I missed you.”

The prince laughs, and pats Robin's fluffy white hair. “My apologies. I've been dying to see you but every time I got a free moment I wouldn't be able to find you, or some member of the board would find me and whisk me off for another useless preparation…”

The tactician smiles, and cranes his neck and stands on his tiptoes to meet the prince's lips for a quick kiss. Robin cursed the fact that he was almost as short at Ricken. “That's alright. I figured you needed space.”

Robin releases the prince, and looks around his bedroom. It was interesting seeing it for the first time. Pages and books are strewn across the prince's expansive bed. A good selection of swords and weapons are mounted upon his wall, ranging from bows to swords to axes.

Robin walks closer to the wall and points to a sword in the centre. “The Hero-King’s sword?” It matched the description that Robin had read in a book once.

Chrom smiles fondly. “It's only a replicate.”

“Never would have taken you for a collector…” Robin muses, smiling softly. Compared to his tiny shared room, Chrom truly did live like a prince.

“Eh, they've mainly been gifts from others for birthdays and the like.” Chrom waves away his words, and sits back on his bed. “I've been told to study the way past exalt's would rule, and it's extremely confusing. I keep getting my timelines mixed up.”

“Perhaps I could give you a hand?” Robin shuffles a little closer. “If it's not, um, intrusive.”

Chrom shuffles some of the papers away to make room for the tactician. “Please, I'm sure you know more on this subject than me.”

**O~O~O**

“...and that's why the Hero-King chose to marry Princess Caeda, not because of her bloodline but because of who she was as a person and their friendship.”

Robin is laying with Chrom in his bed, reading a novel to the prince about historical courtship. They'd gone from past exalts to old laws to now this. He's propped on the prince’s chest. Already a few hours had past and it was well into the night, yet here they still stayed.

“Hmm… I see.” Chrom muses. “I always thought it was because she was princess of Talys.”

Robin smiles, faintly, and turns the page. He'd read this novel multiple times before, but everytime he learned something new. “History can be romantic sometimes.”

The tactician pauses, skimming the next page. “This next one is the story that, um, affirmed that my feelings weren't completely unnatural. It's about the Radiant Hero and his best friend.”

Chrom quirks an eyebrow. He's had his eyes shut, resting and listening. “The Radiant Hero Ike?”

“Yes…” Robin bites his lip. “It was never officially recorded if he was married, but it's believed that he and his childhood friend Soren had a relationship together, whether it was for just a short period of time or long term. There are many fictional stories about this, and many comments about how people felt it was both right and wrong.”

“Huh… I had no idea… I never really was much of a romantic reader. Perhaps I also should have read into this.” Chrom’s tone is teasing, and Robin blushes.

“Well,” Robin mutters. “I had to do my research. I was very confused for a long time.”

He smooths the page. Robin truly had been. Imagine waking up and falling in love with the first thing you see, but not knowing a word for what it was called. If it was even legal. In some parts of the world, marrying a person of the same gender was illegal, and had dire sentences. Ylisstol was different, thankfully, but it still would never be fully accepted.

Robin frowns. It must have been hard for the Radiant Hero and his friend… it was even harder for Soren. He was an outcast, just like Robin. Robin knew exactly how it felt to be taken under the wing of someone so amazing. He secretly hoped that the stories had been true, and the tactician had been extremely excited while reading about them.

Chrom hums. “It's getting late… perhaps we should call it a night. My brain hurts from all this research.”

“Yes,” Robin swallows, and starts to sit up. A sad feeling washes over him. It was time to go back to his room in the barracks.

“Wait, Robin,” Chrom grasps his arm. “Er, how about for tonight you stay here? I'm going to be busy all of tomorrow being fitted, so it would be nice to spend some time with you.”

Robin stiffens, and blushes. Spend the night in the royal wing? The tactician was just a lowly commoner. He shouldn't even be permitted to be in Chrom's room, regardless of their relationship. “Are you sure that's wise?

Chrom smiles fondly, and grasps the book from Robin's hand. “Yes, I think so. There's much more I'd like to talk about with you, but I'm growing very tired.”

Robin bites his lip. If a staff member were to walk in in the morning and see them together… he was sure there would be a riot. The tactician knew that couldn't be a good thing to have just before Chrom's coronation.

The prince's eyes turn pleading, and Robin averts his own grey ones. “Please spend the night, Robin.”

After a short silence, a blush coats Chrom’s cheeks. He grasps the white-haired man’s hand. “There was a time where I also was confused, Robin. But after all we've been through, I think I understand these feelings a little better. It shouldn't be wrong for us to be together like this, in the same room, doing what any normal couple would do. It's just sleeping.”

He appreciated Chrom's words, and sighs before standing, sliding his hand out of Chrom's. Instead of leaving, he removes his coat and drapes it on a chair near his dresser. “You've really changed, you know. I never would have expected you of all people to beg for me to spend the night.”

Chrom laughs, shuffling over in the bed to give Robin enough room, and blows out the candle lighting the room. The tactician nervously crawls in under the cool down covers, and feels Chrom's arms wrap around him, snugly and securely. Robin rests his head on the blue-haired prince's chest, feeling the prince's heartbeat quicken. “A lot has changed, love. Let's enjoy the time that we have right now.”

Robin nods, but then sadly smiles. As innocent as their partnership was, it was still between two men, which was frowned upon.

Once Chrom was exalt, could they even continue this relationship that they had?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember being worried that this would become too political but given the circumstances it would make sense for people to not like Robin and Chrom's relationship unfortunately
> 
> Also sorry for people waiting on Chapter 17 over on FF.net, I've been really busy and haven't had much time to write :( but I'll try to have it up by the weekend!


	11. Chapter 11

_“Are you all right? That's the end of him.” Chrom is propping him up, smiling. Robin's back. Back inside his recurring dream._

_Oh, no._

_“Thanks to you we carried the day. We can rest easy now. At long last…” Chrom runs a thumb along his cheek, and smoothes the tactician's hair back. In the distance, their enemy is disappearing into a sea of swirling black dust._

_Robin feels his vision begin to flicker and redden. A surge of anger rolls through his body._

_Robin knew was about to come, and he wished he could close his eyes. Chrom’s brow creases._

_“...What's wrong? Hey, hang on-” Chrom cuts himself off with a pained sound, and inwardly Robin screams. A long, sharp bolt is protruding from his stomach._

_"It's not…” Chrom swallows, trying to grasp the lightning, but to no avail. Robin tries to reach for him._

_The prince tries to say something else, but all Robin can hear is maniacal laughter. The laughter of the Mad King moments before he died. Flashes of memories from the war fill his mind, countless soldiers slaughtered. The Mad King as he lay on the ground, the life leaving his body._

_Robin was a murderer. And nothing would ever change that fact._

Robin gasps, suddenly sitting up, and feels a wave of lightheadedness. The tactician holds his head, sitting with it against his knees as the nauseous feeling washes over him, breathing hard. The down blanket covering him is too warm, and he kicks it off. In a second, Chrom is sitting up next to him.

“Hey, hey, what's wrong?” The prince grasps Robin's shoulder, and his other rests on his back. He's wide awake, and prepared.

Chrom had insisted on Robin staying in his bed when he began to protest after a few minutes of laying with him, to which the tactician had replied with a bright red blush and stammered words. Were they ready for that, so early in their relationship? They had only just started kissing, which Robin still felt awkward about.

However, it was completely innocent, with the prince promptly falling asleep next to him. Robin didn't dare remove his own clothes in order to get more comfortable, feeling self conscious of the number of scars across his body as well as the fact he was with Chrom. The wound from the arrow had healed into a large brown blot on his pale skin, with a puckered mark.

“N-Nightmare,” Robin manages, and places a hand over his mouth. He felt sick.

Chrom rubs his back, and reaches to grab his waterskin from the ornate bedside table. “Here, have something to drink.”

Robin shakily grabs it from him, and gulps it down. Normally the nausea would fade… and it already was. He sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “Thank you. Sorry. I'm fine. Go back to sleep.”

Chrom bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Before Chrom had even finished the question, the tactician was already quickly shaking his head. How would the prince react to being told that he constantly died in Robin's dreams, at his own hand?

“Okay,” Chrom says, and wraps his arm around Robin's shoulder. “But if you ever need to, I'm here for you. Okay?”

Robin rests his head on Chrom's shoulder, and wraps his own arms around the prince's waist. “Thank you, Chrom.”

They sit like this for a moment. He hadn't any idea about what time it was. The room was faintly lit from the moon, shadowing on Chrom's features. Robin looks up at the prince. He's so handsome, and Robin blushes.

“Chrom… maybe I should leave. I'm sure Stahl is wondering where I am.” Besides, it would lead to a less awkward encounter in the morning.

The prince pouts, holding him closer. “It's so late now, though.”

Robin hadn't expected Chrom to be the clingy type. Hell, he hadn't even expected them to go into a relationship full stop. The prince’s preference had always been assumed to be women. Perhaps he didn't care?

Robin presses a kiss to Chrom's cheek. “Okay, okay. I'll stay. Even if I'm not a woman, I'm sure me emerging from your bedroom tomorrow will raise some eyebrows.”

Chrom shrugs tiredly, smiling, and releases the tactician to stretch back out on his bed. The prince's hair is all messed up. “You’d be surprised. I normally wake myself up for training early, and hardly any of the staff are upstairs during that time. Now stop worrying so much, Robin. I wouldn't have invited you to stay if I were. I'm going to go back to sleep.”

He promptly shuts his eyes, pulling the covers up around them, feigning sleep. Robin chuckles, a little nervously, curling up next to him.

For the longest time, Robin just lay there in the dark, unable to sleep again. Maybe it was the unfamiliar room, or the fact that they could easily be found out, or that Robin was simply both afraid and excited to be here. In the faint moonlight, Robin could see Chrom’s face as he slept. He was so serene, and almost childlike.

But why would Chrom choose him? Yes, the prince had also killed, but who knew Robin's past? Perhaps he'd been a bloodthirsty Plegian who followed the Grimleal. Secretly Robin hated how much he doubted their relationship. It was unfair on the prince, if he was certain he wanted to be with Robin. The tactician frowns, and gently runs his fingers through Chrom’s dark blue hair.

The morning came quickly, but Chrom still slept. Robin was still unable to, and felt the tiredness making him nauseous. He continued to run his fingers through his hair, lightly so as to not wake him. He'd been thinking all night, envisioning strategy and thinking about his relationship with Chrom.

Robin pauses. He could hear a strange, yet familiar shuffle and clang of armour, outside of Chrom's room and it was coming closer. Could it be coming to his room?

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door, and Robin bolts.

He hastily throws himself off the bed and under it, out of sheer terror of their relationship being found out, just in time for Frederick to open the door with a checklist in hand. Chrom cracks an eye open.

“Huh? Frederick?”

The knight bows slightly, reading off the paper, and Robin presses his sleeve to his mouth. His heart was racing. “Good morning, milord. I thought you might be training but you weren't at the grounds yet. I've a list of tasks to do today from the new Heirarch in preparation for your coronation, as well as…”

Frederick trails off, staring at Robin's coat hanging on the chair in Chrom's room. He raises an stoic eyebrow, but continues. “As well as a list of weapons and food items we need restocked that you should confirm the costs before we buy any more.”

Robin can't see Chrom's face from where he is, but he can hear the strained tiredness in his voice. “Er, thank you Frederick. I'll have a look over them now.”

The knight steps closer, placing them on Chrom's dresser, and Robin shuffles back. The underneath of his bed wasn't well hidden. It was simply delicately twisted bars of brass hiding him from Frederick. Gods, the state he was in. Thankfully his strategy had worked somewhat.

“Milord, would you like me to return Robin's coat for you? You've much to do today.” The tactician tightens his knuckles, and Chrom’s feet touch the floor as he stands up.

“Thanks Frederick, but it's fine. I'll run into him at some point today.” Chrom collects the notes, and with another short bow Frederick finally leaves. Robin breathes out a sigh of relief.

Chrom, hearing the sound, gets down on all fours to look under the bed. He grins ear to ear when he sees the tactician. “Ah, I see you're awake. Good strategy, Robin.”

Robin winces. “What happened to waking up at the crack of dawn? I felt too awkward to wake you up…”

Chrom chuckles. He doesn't look tired, but he sounds tired. “My apologies. I didn't expect to sleep in like that. Come out from under there.”

Robin obeys, crawling out the other side, and sits on the bed. He truly felt exhausted now. Chrom walks around to sit next to him. He has his to-do list in front of him.

“Did you sleep enough tonight?” The prince asks, noting the tired shapes underneath Robin's eyes, and the tactician shakes his head. He runs a hand through his own white fluffy hair, feeling the knots.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee then go to the library… You don’t think Frederick is still around, do you?”

Chrom smiles, and shakes his head. “He’d be beginning Frederick’s Fanatical Fitness Hour. We’re probably safe to leave now.”

The prince begins to shrug off his shirt to change, and Robin turns bright red at the sight of his muscles and bare chest. Hastily, he turns away. Chrom was obviously very comfortable in his body, and Robin slightly regretted not being as comfortable as him the night before.

_**O~O~O** _

Robin had hastily left, bright red, to continue his studies in the library. He hadn't even gone to get changed in fear of Stahl asking questions. For most of the day he was hunched over a game board, biting his lip while strategizing difficult ways of winning.

“So if the cavaliers spread out in a fan... And the pegasus knights sweep in from the flank…” He muses, and sips from his coffee that was no longer warm.

Virion approaches the tactician. “Goodness, I can practically see smoke rising from your head. Whatever could have you working at such a fevered tilt?”

“I'm practicing strategies and scenarios on this game board.” Robin’s eyes don't waver from the game pieces, and he slowly moves one. “After a hundred forced marches, these pieces are still ready for more. It saves me from running everyone ragged with training exercises.”

“How very clever. You even carved little enemy forces for them to fight…” Virion smiles, picking up one of the pieces, and Robin's eyes travel up. “I'm impressed. And that doesn't happen often… with other people, I mean.”

Robin smiles a little. “Well, as long as I control friend and foe alike, it's not as effective as I'd prefer. After all, I can't plan for the unexpected when I know all the moves ahead of time.” If Chrom wasn't so busy, he'd definitely ask him, especially given he led the Shepherds alone for a time.

Virion takes that as an invitation to sit. “Then permit me to be your opponent. I shall strike with the nobility of the lion and defend with the grace of the swan!”

“Because swans are...good defenders?” Robin raises his eyebrow. “Er, never mind. But aren't you busy arranging your wedding, Virion?”

The archer and Miriel had decided to marry immediately after Chrom's coronation, so as to, in Virion's own words, not 'take the spotlight away from such an event’. Virion waves away Robin's words.

“We have plenty of time to finish preparations. But now that I'm getting married Robin, it makes me even more of a connoisseur on women. If you're ever having lady problems, you know who to come to.”

Virion winks, and Robin flushes red. He'd never had an interest in women. “Er… thanks. Anyway. I accept your challenge. We'll take turns moving units until one of us claims the other's commander. Agreed?”

“Agreed and agreed again! Oh, what fun!” Robin clears the game pieces as Virion speaks, and resets them. “Begin, please. By all means.”

And thus, the two started their pretend battle. Virion was surprisingly tactical, placing units in prime positions as bait, and eventually had Robin cornered.

Robin has the sleeve of his coat pressed to his mouth, and he suddenly throws his arms out. “Hold! I need to retract my last move.”

Virion smirks, and slowly moves his piece. “Ha ha! If only all enemy generals were so generous! But alas, this is war… Checkmate, my good sir.”

“Blast! I hate to admit it, but I am well and truly beaten.” Robin winces. Losing wasn't something that sat well with him. Thankfully, this was only a game.

“Oh ho! I told you I was both a lion and a swan, did I not?” The archer's smile widens, and he clears the game board.

“More like a chicken and the far end of a horse!” Robin crosses his arms, watching him move the pieces. “I'm no noble lord, but your strategy wasn't exactly what I'd call honorable.”

“Heavens! Aren't we plainspoken.” Virion raises an eyebrow at the tactician.

Robin smiles. “Still, I appreciate the practice. Thank you, Virion.”

“If you wish me to unleash my dishonorable strategies again, you have but to ask.” Virion smiles, and stands. “I'd best find Miriel. She's somewhere in here reading…”

Robin watches the archer leave, and thinks of his own partner… how exciting it must be for Miriel and Virion to know they would soon be marrying. Robin bites his lip. He truly longed for the same, but it was so early in their relationship… which was supposed to be a secret. Being with the future exalt like this would make him an instant target, especially given their situation.

The tactician stands, and packs away the game board and his coffee mug. He longed the taste of another strong, hot coffee, and headed to the mess hall.

He passes Frederick, who nods at the tactician, smiling kindly. “Ah, I see Chrom found you to return your coat.”

What? Robin suddenly remembers that morning, and awkwardly smiles. “Er, yeah. I'm grateful he did. I love this coat.”

He felt his voice go higher pitched, and inwardly cringes, walking past the confused Frederick quickly. Nobody was to know of what happened yesterday. Robin doubted it would happen again for a while, as well. Being invited to stay in Chrom's room was definitely a one-off.

How the tactician was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been too busy to write more and I feel so bad :( after June my time should be freeing up a little bit!


	12. Chapter 12

Robin didn't run into Chrom again until a few days later, the day before his royal coronation. There was excitement buzzing in the air about it. Stahl had teased Robin mercilessly about his story of 'falling asleep in the library’ during his night away from bed, and Robin barely managed to stammer himself away from further questions. He'd been avoiding Chrom, nervous after having nearly been found by Frederick. He feared the reaction of the other Shepherds, and their good friends in Regna Ferox.

Against all odds, another wedding was due for the Shepherds. At dinner the night before, Gaius had offhandedly mentioned his proposal to Sumia, who stammered and went bright red, tipping her soup into her lap by mistake. Robin had been absent, but Lissa gleefully filled him in on what had happened.

Robin was currently tucked into the library, where he found himself a lot of the time now that the war was over. In Virion's spare time, the two had met to play more and more games against each other, but otherwise the tactician had a nose in his book. In a way, the library had quickly become his home away from home.

Night had begun to fall. Robin could see the sky darkening rapidly from the window, and he props his head on his hand to watch it from his seat at a table.

The nightmares hadn't stopped, and exhaustion was settling into him. Robin had hoped he would be rested for the occasion, but apparently that was too much to wish for.

“Robin!”

Chrom's relieved voice cuts through the space, and Robin blinks, turning to look at the prince. He looks stressed, but a wide smile is on his face.

“Hey, Chrom,” Robin says, a soft smile lacing his lips, and freezes when the prince all but throws his arms around Robin's shoulders.

“I missed you, Robin” he says, happily, and Robin quickly ducks away from the prince’s kiss.

“Shh, Chrom, we're in public!” He laughs a little, dodging the prince’s second attempt, but he's unable to dodge Chrom's hands grasping his cheeks.

“Gods, Robin, it's long past library hours. I highly doubt anyone is enough of a bookworm to be here so late.”

From her corner, Miriel peeks around the corner, utterly confused. Lord Chrom and Robin? She watches with fascination, hidden from sight, as Chrom leans in to kiss Robin tenderly on the lips. Of course. The two were so close, she wasn't surprised. She'd felt the same for her own love, Virion.

Robin blushes, and pushes Chrom's chest away, resting his hand on it. “It feels strange for you to kiss me like that in such an open area…”

Chrom smiles. “Let's go to my room, then. I've much to talk about with you.”

The tactician falters a little. Last time, Frederick had almost found out about them… But if he left tonight, and didn't stay the night, there was much less risk. Especially given such a ceremony tomorrow.

So Robin packed up his books, and walks by Chrom's side. Miriel watches the two leave, and fixes her glasses before returning to her novel.

“So… you're going to be the exalt of Ylisse tomorrow, Chrom.” Robin smiles a little bit, walking in step next to him. They pass through the halls of the castle lazily.

“Yes. It's… a very daunting thought. All of those people watching…” Chrom cringes a little, running a hand through his hair. “I remember watching Emmeryn's coronation. She seemed so full of hope, and pride for Ylisse… I hope I can be the same.”

The tactician folds his arms. “You're going to be a great ruler, Chrom.”

The prince chuckles, and rests his hand on the tactician's head. “Thanks, Robin. That means a lot to me.”

They round the corner, and bump into Lissa. The princess yelps, and a red blush creeps onto her face.

“Chrom! I thought you'd already gone to bed, in preparation for tomorrow!” She laughs nervously, and then her eyes travel to look at Robin. “Oh. Hi Robin! Wait, what are you guys doing?”

The tactician squeaks a little, an equally as red blush coating his own cheeks. Thankfully, Chrom had the situation sorted.

“We're going to go and talk in my room. I think I want Robin there when we speak about the war against Plegia, so I wanted to discuss that with him.” Chrom’s brow creases. “What are you doing?”

The tactician falters. Public speaking? Oh, gods. Lissa giggles, nervously.

“Nothing! I'm just, um, going to see Maribelle! She had something important to talk about with me, too.” Lissa smiles, wide, and all but runs past the two. “Bye! Have fun!”

Chrom raises an eyebrow at Robin, but doesn't say a word as they finish their walk. The blue-haired man opens the door, ushering Robin inside, who whips around almost immediately.

“Chrom! You said nothing about a speech!” The tactician hisses the words, annoyance coating his features.

“It's not that much different to speaking to the Shepherds,” Chrom muses, smiling at his expression. “Besides, you don't need to speak. I'd rather you just stand with me, especially with how many people there are.”

Robin winces at the thought. Being the tactician for an army was much different to being Chrom's tactician for Ylisse. Of course, he wanted a relationship with the people, but the thought of being on a podium alongside the future exalt was scary.

Chrom takes off his gloves, and grasps Robin's hands and brings one, the tattooed one, to his lips to kiss it. The tactician blushes. “Just think about it, okay? The ceremony isn't until tomorrow afternoon.”

The future exalt releases his hands, smiling, before stripping himself of his shoulder armour and undoing the clasps on his shirt. Again, no shame. Robin wheels around, the blush reddening. “Do you always have to strip around me?”

He hears Chrom's chuckle. “Well, we're both men. It's nothing you haven't seen before.”

Robin presses a hand to his burning cheek, embarrassed, refusing to turn around. “But not as your partner.”

The tactician flinches when he feels Chrom's body press against his back, his larger hands running up under his coat against his shirt. A shiver runs through Robin's body. “Would you like to stay here again tonight?”

“Um-” Robin had originally wanted to say no, but now feeling Chrom's teasing hands on his chest he genuinely reconsidered his decision. “Maybe for a little bit.”

The prince chuckles, releasing his tactician, but starts to tug his coat off his shoulders. “Alright, only for a little bit. I've actually been, um, doing my research. This whole relationship thing is pretty new to me. But I know I want to spend time with you before tomorrow… in case anything changes.”

Robin bites his lip. Chrom had a point.

“But nothing can come between us indefinitely, save death,” he murmurs, removing his coat. Chrom pulls away to neatly place it over the same chair as the other night. “Not any lords and ladies, nor any civilians, nor any of the Shepherds. What happens between us is for us to choose. And… I don't care if people know. We shouldn't be forced to keep this a secret.”

Robin exhales at his words, not realizing he'd been holding his breath, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

“Please don't say anything stupid tomorrow, Chrom.” Robin says pointedly, feeling his voice wobble, and he turns. His heart races when he sees Chrom shirtless again. He's only wearing his pants and a pair of socks.

The prince sits on his bed. “No, no, I won't. But I think I'm ready to come out, and tell people about this. I feel bad lying to Lissa when she teases me about all the women in the Shepherds being snatched up…”

Robin’s mouth twitches, and he frowns. “I know the feeling… but how will people feel about us? And nobody knows that I'm, well, gay.”

The tactician cringes at the affinity of the word. Finally, he'd said it to someone. Robin had read that word in a book ages ago when he first researched about how he felt, and it sat well with him compared to the others. Finally, a phrase to explain himself.

Chrom bites his lip. “Let's both agree to slowly tell people then. But let's discuss that tomorrow. Tonight, let's only think about you and I.”

The prince holds out his hand, a dashing smile gracing his lips, and Robin gently takes it. He's nervous. What does he mean by that?

Robin sits beside him, and the prince runs a hand through his white hair, nestling it into its fluffiness. The tactician relaxes at the touch. He'd come to like it over these last few weeks. “I meant my words when I said that I missed you. With all that's been happening lately, it was disappointing to not see you at all.”

“My apologies, Chrom,” Robin murmurs, and feels Chrom lean in to press a kiss to his neck. His warm breath tickles the skin, and Robin shivers, feeling him gently tug his shirt away to reveal more. Where on earth did Chrom learn to be so explicit? The normally awkward, innocent prince had really stepped up his game. Perhaps from thinking it over for a few days he'd decided to take the lead.

Robin's heart almost spasmed when he felt Chrom gently brush his lips against his collar, opposite to the one that was injured ages ago. A strangled moan escapes when he feels the prince gently nip it, and Chrom releases him.

“I hope that was okay,” he said, a light blush on his cheeks. “Sorry, I should have asked before doing that. What time did you want to leave?”

Robin ignores him, and pushes a surprised Chrom back onto his bed, climbing on top of him and kissing him deeply. The tactician's hand snakes around into his dark blue hair, gripping it, moving his mouth against the prince's who happily obliges. His mouth gently opens, and Robin deepens the kiss further, exploring the prince’s mouth. Chrom wraps an arm around Robin's neck, his other hand resting in his white hair.

When Robin finally breaks for air, leaving a small string of drool between their lips, he sits up, straddling the prince. He didn't expect it to come this far, but thinking about this rationally would only prevent them from doing this. Whatever it was that they were doing.

Robin swallows, looking down at the sight before him. Chrom's hair is messed up, and he's breathing in deeply, a dark red blush on his cheeks and collar. He has one blue eye cracked open, and his bare chest and stomach is irresistible to the tactician. If they didn't stop now, he wouldn't be able to stop himself later. “I missed you, too. A lot. But you have a big day tomorrow. You're going to become exalt. So I should leave and let you rest.”

The prince whines, and looks visibly upset when Robin disentangles the prince's arms from him. His shirt is sitting awkwardly on his shoulders, and he sits on the edge of the bed to fix it.

“I wish you could stay every night…” Chrom sighs, and sits up next to him.

Robin smiles, and looks at him, pressing a soft kiss to the prince’s cheek. “Yes. I kind of do, too.”

**O~O~O**

The grand ceremony for Chrom's coronation had begun. Watching him stand before the people of Ylisstol, who had filled out the main castle hall with their sheer masses for such an event, gave Robin a sense of pride. Sunlight shone through the high windows. He sat with Lissa, and watched him nervously repeat the vows that the new Hierarch spoke to him. His coronation suit is similar to his normal outfit, but fully white, with a dark blue and red cape. Falchion remained sheathed at his side. Chrom’s brand is exposed, and seems to glow almost bright today.

As the Hierarch gently placed the blue and gold crown onto a kneeling Chrom's head, Marth smiles from the crowd. She'd travelled far upon hearing the news of this event, and her heart soared with just as much pride as Robin's. Her eyes scan the crowd for the Shepherds, and she's overjoyed to see him seated with Lissa.

“I present to you Exalt Chrom Elrick Lowell the First, Captain of the Shepherds, the Prince of Peace.” The Hierarch steps back, and Chrom stands before the Ylissean citizens, who clap and cheer for their new exalt.

Robin sees the prince visibly swallow, and follows Lissa to stand next to him. Flavia and Basilio, wide and proud smiles on their faces for such an occasion, stand to his left. Chrom gives the two a gentle smile, and watches and listens as he recaptures the battles they had between Plegia and Ylisse. He mentions the gratitude he had for their allies in Regna Ferox, and the harshness of Emmeryn's death. Robin is mesmerized by his words, watching him speak before the people, before all of these lords and important people of Ylisstol with seeming ease.

A celebratory dinner and drink followed, and Lissa dragged Robin to these important people as they stood around the hall and chatted, drinking champagne. Chrom is standing near the throne, Frederick and the Hierarch not far from his side, speaking to multiple members of the public.

“Robin, this is Maribelle's father, Lord Solberg.” Lissa smiles, standing next to a proud Maribelle. The man is taller than his daughter, with a greying mustache and a monocle. “Lord Solberg, this is the tactician for the Ylissean army.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” the man muses, daintily handshaking with Robin before wiping it with a handkerchief. “Tactician of the whole Ylissean army? You truly did well to help with this war.”

Robin feels nervous speaking to such an influential lord. He knew the Solberg’s had their own estate, and Lord Solberg himself kept in touch with meetings amongst the others. It would be good to leave a great impression on the man. “Er, thank you. I'm just grateful it's over now.”

Maribelle fans herself with an ornate hand fan. “Yes, I couldn't quite agree more. It truly was dulling to be amongst barbaric soldiers like that.”

Lissa rolls her eyes. Maribelle would always be Maribelle. “Let's go get a drink, Mar.”

Robin swallows, now alone with the lord, but Solberg is ignoring him to watch Chrom. “Our future exalt is a great fit, wouldn't you agree? Very polite. Very kind.”

The tactician nods, relaxing a little. Chrom was laughing, discussing something with a grey-haired woman next to a blushing Sumia. Perhaps it was her mother? “Yes. I agree, Chrom is amazing.”

Solberg smirks. “It's a shame he has yet to marry. I'm sure my Maribelle would be a perfect fit for him. He needs someone proper to guide him.”

Robin swallows. Of course, now that Chrom was crowned exalt, the next question would be who he was to marry, because a heir would be needed as soon as possible.

Apologizing to the lord, Robin makes a swift exit, and stands with Gaius and Libra. He grabs a drink from a passing waiter, drinking it's bubbly contents to hide his rising panic. They're both dressed for the occasion, and Gaius looks uncomfortable doing so, constantly tugging at the tall collar of his shirt. “Gods, my future mother-in-law is a handful. She's already had her say in the matter of our marriage, and thinks that Chrom would be a much better fit than a 'barbarian’ like me.”

Libra smiles wanly. He's wearing dress robes that are much neater than his normal ones. “I'm sure she means it in jest.”

The orange-haired thief rolls his eyes, watching his fiancee walk with her mother to another older lady, who looked to be Ricken's grandmother judging by her graying maroon hair. “All these prim and proper people don't know a thing about us. I wouldn't have asked her to marry me if I wasn't ready to leave all of that behind. Hell, I wouldn't have joined such a goody-two-shoes band like the Shepherds if I wasn't prepared for that.”

He opens a small satchel of sweets, and pops one in his mouth. “Oh well, sucks to be her. I'm pretty sure Sumia wouldn't blow me off for Chrom, anyway. She only likes him as a friend.”

The priest pats him on the shoulder. He was soon going to wed both Miriel and Virion, as well as Gaius and Sumia. It would be an exciting time for weddings now that the war was over.

Nowi is dressed in a pale yellow chiffon dress, confusing people with her childlike appearance as she looks around with awe. Ricken stands with her, uncomfortable in his own dress shirt.

“I've never seen so many people in one place before,” Nowi says, her mouth open, and Ricken rolls his eyes.

“It's so boring, though. Poor Chrom. I'd hate to have to talk to so many people.” He cringes, and drinks more of the juice that was supplied for young ones like him. He wasn't even that young, given that he was turning seventeen in only a few months. If only he would grow another couple of inches...

“I wanna meet everyone!” Nowi giggles, and grabs his hand to pull him with her. The young mage blushes. “Can I meet your family?”

Panne couldn't care less for the celebrations around her. Humans were so strange, celebrating a new leader for their warren. However, to be fair, their warren was quite expansive…

“Hiya, Panne! Enjoyin’ the party?” Donnel sidles up to her, dressed in his best but he still has his signature pot on his head.

She gives him a pointed look. “I suppose. I never quite understood your strange traditions…”

Robin watches the other party goers from the sidelines. Gaius and Libra had long left to join the other Shepherds, and Robin continued to sip from his champagne, a warm feeling spreading through his chest and making him feel fuzzy like after they had won the war. He almost doesn't notice Chrom join him.

“Hey, there,” the now exalt claps him on the shoulder, and Robin flinches, turning to him. A wide smile

“You scared me,” Robin says, smiling at the blue-haired man. His crown is skewed, and Robin gently fixes it.

“My apologies. You looked so lost in thoughts, all alone…” Chrom rests his hand on his shoulder, and Flavia's booming laugh cuts through their conversation. The exalt drops his hand, and smiles as the Khan's join the pair. “Khan Flavia, Basilio. Enjoying the party?”

Flavia smiles fondly at the pair. She's dressed in a neat, form-fitting red dress, and holding a flute of champagne. “Quite a show you've put on, Chrom. You look very dashing.”

“Thank you,” Chrom muses. “I've already had a few marriage proposals. Sumia's mother was quite firm…”

Robin winces slightly, jealousy rising in him, but Basilio laughs and claps the tactician on the shoulder. He has a knowing smile on his face. “What about this young lad? Wouldn't he be a good ruler? My money's on you both.”

Robin turns bright red, freezing up, and Chrom mirrors his expression. Thankfully, Flavia doesn't see it, rolling her eyes. “Ha ha, very funny Basilio.”

“I'm serious,” the war veteran continues. “You won't be laughing when your coin comes to me, Flavia!”

“Er, thanks Basilio.” Chrom nervously laughs, looking at Robin with confusion. Could he know? How on earth could he know? The warrior laughs again, leaving the two to their own devices by promising he would drink Flavia under the table. As he leaves, he winks at Robin, who turns scarlet.

“That was… interesting.” Chrom comments, and Robin downs his drink to grab another from a passing waiter, his hand shaking. He knew they had spoken about telling others, but was still deathly afraid. The alcohol helped.

He feels the exalt grasps his wrist when he starts to down the second one. “Slow down, Robin. Relax. I'm sure he meant it in jest.”

The tactician shakes his head. “I don't think he was. He sounded very sure of himself…”

The prince frowns, and releases his wrist, slowly sipping his own drink. The party had gone well into the night, and people were slowly leaving. Lissa is giggling, tipsy from the champagne, standing with Lon’qu and Maribelle, almost hanging off the myrmidon’s arm.

“I think I might leave,” Robin mumbles, watching as Sumia holds Gaius’ hand while they leave. It hurt, because he wished he were brave enough to do the same. “Congratulations though, Chrom. I'm proud of you.”

The prince sighs, and wraps an arm around his shoulder. He longed to kiss the tactician, but he knew he would only get upset to gain so much attention on such a momentous day. “Thank you, Robin.”

**O~O~O**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates guys, life really got in the way and I haven't updated this story in ages. The rest is still on fanfiction.net under the same name ❤️❤️ once I'm feeling the writing bug again I'll post a new chapter over there and finish posting all the chapters here!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can follow me on Instagram or Facebook (Shayminion Cosplay) if you're interested to see what else I do!


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